


rosy cheeks

by octobertwo (cheshirebottom)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Harry, Buttplugs, Deepthroating, Dildos, Facials, Fem!Harry, Fluff and Angst, Harry and the gang aka his girl friends, Harry owns lots of dildos and buttplugs, High School AU, Louis has two pet cats, M/M, Pining, Rimming, Sex Toys, Spanking, Virgin!Harry, Ziall are married, camboy!harry, harry is 17, louis is 29, sub!Harry, teacher!Louis, top!Louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:27:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 95,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5472830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshirebottom/pseuds/octobertwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>fuck, is the first word that crosses his mind during his first day at his new job as a private academy professor. because standing right before him, is hey fucking angel ninety fucking eight, with the same wide, green eyes and the same obscenely plump lips and flushed cheeks that he has spent countless hours wanking to while mentally calling the boy that is practically the perfect definition of a good sub kitten, while he fucks himself for the camera and various other men. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>and sure, louis has spent countless hours imagining a scenario when he'd come across the same angelic boy that has a penchant for pressing his cheeks against the bed and fucking himself open roughly with sex toys, but he never would've thought of meeting him like this. at a cramped coffee shop that's located smack dab in the middle of the academy that louis teaches at and heyangel98 is obviously a student at. so of course the first thing in his mind would be fuck, because that's all he wants to do to him. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. baby look what you've done to me ♥

**Author's Note:**

> ♡ ♡
> 
> " _rosy cheeks_ "
> 
> **© 2015 by bottomharrie (octobertwo here on ao3)**
> 
> **all rights reserved.** no part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
> 
> **disclaimer:** this is pure fiction. none of the scenes happened. another thing: harry may be 17 here, but the age of consent in uk is 16, so i hope i won't hear any complaints regarding that and like, maybe just enjoy what is brought to the table. i try my hardest to contribute to the bottom harry side of the fandom, so. perhaps the least we could do is appreciate any and all fics made by our fellow bottom harries. x
> 
> ♡ ♡
> 
> **more notes:** betas are late given for this one due to time zones and busy schedule conflicts, so 'm nay sorry if this ain't even close to what you presume is perfection.

Grabbing all the cushions straying from the floor around the coffee table, Louis dumps them on either side of the couch, going toward his stereo and unplugging the charger from his laptop nearby, going back to the couch right after. He sets the thing over the coffee table and pries the lid open. The screen lights up almost instantly, and then turning dark later as it loads up Windows Server 2012.

While Louis waits for his laptop to open up completely, he firstly wanders back to the kitchen and grabs himself some Coke in can, places it on the counter. Then reaching up the cupboards, he takes two cans of cat food and works them open.

As though they know they're about being fed--which, they probably do, since they're smart as fuck at times--Lee and Saturn, Louis' pet cats, come rubbing their bodies against Louis' legs popping in out of nowhere, purring innocently as if Louis didn't already know how evil they can get when they want to be, urging Louis to conceivably hurry up with their dinner. Louis shakes his head at it, albeit smiling fondly, hearing his kitties meow their pleases.

"So bossy," he murmurs around a sly grin, but he prepares their food quicker than intended either way, just so he can go back to his laptop too, see if it's done loading.

Finished preparing, Louis puts down both Lee's and Saturn's bowls in front of them by the kitchen floor. Lee, the all out jet-black female cat Louis' had for almost two years now, blankly stares at her food as though waiting for Louis to leave her sights before she digs in. _Ms. Grumpy_ , he scoffs playfully in his head.

Louis rolls his eyes at her, hands stuck expectantly to his hips, but the lady cat's seeming desire stands still. Whatever, Louis can never tame her.

Saturn on the other hand meanwhile, the perfect replica of Garfield himself, Louis' younger male cat and the fatter one at that, just jumps on his dinner without any ado. The Pig Cat he is. Louis can't help laugh mentally at the sight of him, munching on the mashed food all gathered at the corner of his mouth, cheek bloated. These cats, he swears, are really just his favourite living things in the world right now, ever since.

Ever since he's been single and lonely and alone, at least (that he had the need to adopt kittens years ago), considering he lives on his own. However, of course, he also has other favourites aside from Lee and Saturn, which are Doris and Ernest, his twin baby brother and sister. Then again he doesn't get to see his family members often--everyday--so for now this is how things are for him.

Having pulled back to reality a few minutes to his enticing over his pets, Louis grabs on his moistening can of Coke from the counter and pads back towards the living room. He tugs the beverage open as he does so, and then takes a swig from it, shutting the blinds of his windows that offer the view of the city outside, not wanting for his self-time to be seen by anyone except for his two oblivious companions. Yep, not even the stars and the moon would he share whatever this is he's bound to do.

Flopping down on the couch, Louis navigates through his laptop and taps open a browser; he types in the letter _p_ , and then there goes the list of his previous visited sites, the one on the uppermost being paypercome.com. Louis taps on it, and by the time the site itself loads, black background appearing and some hot pink streaks loading up to fill in some rectangular video boxes, his phone just really has to ring and he groans at the inconvenience of it.

Leaving the site open for quite a bit, already seeing a few naked guys and twinks touching themselves or being touched by someone else, Louis reaches out for his phone by the right end of the couch and peers over it to see who the culprit is.

James Corden. He slides accept call. " _Louis! Lad!_ " Beams the old man from the other line, making Louis wince a bit at how loud his voice boomed.

"James, hey, what's made you call?" Louis replies, settling back down again in front of his laptop. He scrolls through the site.

"I have a good news for you, mate!"

"Okay, how good is this?" Louis questions, voice an octave lower, something he didn't mean to come out his throat. He bites his lip.

Seemingly noticed that, James laughs all the sudden. "No way, Lou," he says, a bit mirthful. Louis sighs now. "Don't tell me-- oh fuck, did I interrupt you with something? Are you in the middle of-"

"Shut up, old chap, just tell me what this good news is! Haven't got all night!" Louis chastises, feeling his ears going triply hot by the second. He keeps scrolling through the site, still.

James laughs again, louder this time. "Fucking bollocking shit, ya lad! So, you're really still into that? The whole obsessing over camboys? Seriously, matey, up your game!"

Louis grits his teeth, embarrassed to his bones. Why he even told his latest obsession to James fucking Corden _of all people_ in the first place, Louis truly never knew. All he knows is that he regrets that now though, because James is probably the worst guy he knows when it comes to keeping his mouth shut. He's all about teasing him for any and all kinks he has ongoing for him as of late. It's ridiculous, this.

See, Louis is kinda sorta into this whole idea of being quiet watching pretty twinks fuck themselves at the moment--like, frankly ever since he's stumbled upon the site paypercome.com, a site recommended by one of his colleagues (Luke) that one time they got smashed together--enjoying the pleasure of adoring them, and also, hearing their sweet moans through his earphones. Or rather, this one twink in particular Louis' discovered the third time he tuned in at the site all those months prior...

_Username is heyangel98._

Louis doesn't really know the boy, doesn't even try googling him at all to perhaps find his Facebook, deciding on just staying within the lane of the porn site where he first saw him, as though that's such a big significant he never wants to neglect.

_Hiii everyone. Welcome to my humble page. Since I don't want to risk anything, considering this is just another one of those sites, I won't reveal my name to anyone. You can call me whichever nickname you may please, I'd gladly go along with it._

_Ex-mermaid, ex-fairy, ex-dainty fresh daisy, now a faunlet (nymphet), power bottom unicorn sex toys enthusiast._

_I like to cuddle most times, though..._

_I hope you enjoy my videos. And thank you, always, for subscribing to me or being a subscriber._

_Links to how you pay via visa or debit card are below this line; ways to get access to my videos._

Surely, Louis likes the twink, heck he's actually, foolishly obsessed with him--his face and his angelic moans and his perky bum. (Also, of course, his dick). But Louis doesn't intend to actually meet him, or talk to him, because Louis is only this. Just another viewer of the gorgeously flamboyant camboy, heyangel98. He's accepted months before he can only ever ask for more without having the chance to get any.

He pays the pretty boy though, that's true, via his debit card. Every time he tunes in to one of his recorded porn videos, just like how things work around the site, as stated on heyangel98's Bio. Louis knows without the magic of pounds he won't be able to view the faunlet twink fuck himself sweetly with a pink dildo like a sex god every night.

Anyway, aside from that, Louis hasn't any other motives to the boy anymore. Just for the viewing pleasure, end of.

Well, that's something James doesn't seem to understand though. Nor believe. But whatever. "Okay, okay," the old man says with a tone of finality then. Old because while Louis is only 29, James Corden now is 34, as far as Louis knows, with two kids and is married to his wife. He and Louis are close friends who met at a high school somewhere in Birmingham years and years ago, where they had been teachers to Years Ten and Twelve, struggling men and all that. Right now though, Louis remembers James to be a professor now in some Uni around Manchester, he once said, lecturing Broadcasting of some sort, and as for him, he's currently stuck at home. Jobless and an owner of two handful cats, living alone to himself, with no boyfriend or husband to fulfill his sexual needs. Louis is just really grateful heyangel98 exists if he's honest, and James can just really fuck off.

"Okay, what?" He snaps, although there's a hint of fondness now in it, keeping himself from smiling. He can never get mad at James after all, that's the truth of the matter. The guy's just really cheeky and mischievous, as per fucking usual. He would always take the piss on anyone, really--and that means Louis too. No one is an exception to this man, not even his wife. The Right Git.

"I'm gon' tell you the good news now," clarifies James, laughter subsiding bit by bit. "So, remember that application form you sent out one and a half weeks ago? The one where you applied for the English major teacher position?"

Louis perks up at hearing this, stopping from scrolling through the site firsthand. "Yeah, I do remember. Why? What about it James?" He can hear his heart pounding, almost can feel his lungs contracting at the anticipation building from within his guts, giddiness almost surfacing. Oh how he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but can't contain himself. "Tell me!"

"Well..." James says, all dragged and dramatic.

"Well, what?" Louis almost shouts, feeling anxiously excited.

"You've been approved at Saint Bridget's Academy, lad!" James finally cries out, enthusiasm radiating through the receiver of Louis' Samsung phone.

Louis' eyes widen, and he wasn't able to stop himself, he stands up to have his happy dance moment. "Holy shit! Thank God, thank God! I've been waiting forever for them to hire me! Fuck."

"I know! I know!" James crows, laughing again. He's always been a happy, laughing type of man, what do you expect. "I can only imagine how you must be so bored with your life now, Tommo. I'm just glad I'm the one to have the privilege to let you know. You're gonna be back up on your feet now! And _I_ was the one who brought you the good news! Hurrah!"

Louis laughs heartily, eyes squinting in delight. "Yeah, I know how you are with all these first to pop good news and shit. Fuck. James, thank you for telling me this. Really, I do appreciate it, lad."

"Hey, no problem, Lou. Always wanted the best for you," James chimes, a smile to his voice. "Anyhow. I'll just text you the details and the address of the school, yeah? In case you've actually forgot, knowing you." Louis rolls his eyes fondly. "You gotta be there on Monday, ya hear? That's when they'll immediately hire you."

Louis nods to himself. "Alright, gotcha."

"Good, good. Great," says James, all calm and quiet now. A beat, "By the way, I G-T-G, wife's coming home soon, gotta clean up a bit. Enjoy the show, you kinky perv." Laughter again, and then he hangs up.

Louis lowers down his phone with the biggest grin plastered across his face, cheeks to his ears all hot and tingly. " _Fuck_ ," he hisses. "I can't believe that conversation happened just now." Looking up, he beams to no one in particular. "I'm gonna be a fucking teacher again! Yes!" He cheers, fist-pumping the air.

Seconds to his victory dance, purrs coming from below him sound and Louis peers down to see his pet cats staring up at him. Louis grins at them, and then he remembers he's got a video to watch. Which brings Louis to yet again curse at James inside his head. _Enjoy the show, you kinky perv._

"Meh!" Louis scoffs, without any type of real heat into it, as he gets back to his spot on the couch, "you don't fuckin' care, James Corden, if I wanna jack off to twinks looking pretty and submissively responsive. I'mma do me' thing."

♡♡♡♡

Having logged in on his own account, Louis, he clicks on a few links and a couple of ads popped up. He exits to all of those, undeterred. The account of heyangel98 appears before his laptop screen, pastel pink background and some immaculate white streaks accentuating it, baby blue colored fonts, neon greens highlighted links. It's pretty, this twink's profile is. Louis always loves going here.

Surfing his profile, Louis passes a few unplayable videos--unless you've payed for those--and searches for the new uploaded one heyangel98 provided for his viewers tonight. And there, Louis sees it, under the Daily category, with a blinking _NEW!_ notification sign at the corner.

Since it's a Friday night, Louis is expecting something extra special. Being heyangel98's subscriber for a solid 6 months now, Louis has come to memorize which particular day the boy will upload what kind of video supposed to be is.

On Mondays, the pretty twink uploads videos where he is gagging on a transparent glittery dildo, wearing nothing but some lace panties of whichever pastel color, curly hair held up by elastic bands. Louis would always anticipate on how he would look that day.

On Tuesdays, he uploads videos where he's sprawled over his bed, or maybe his sofa, the kitchen counter, fingering himself open with just his index and middle fingers. If some of his viewers did tip him some more however, he would add another finger that he would mention on the video. Which, that's just one of the best highlights for Louis' part as an audience, really.

On Wednesdays, he uploads videos where he uses dark-colored buttplugs right after he makes himself come, all dizzy and high in orgasm. And then he would tease the hell out of his viewers, saying he will be wearing that for the rest of his day just for them--for Louis. And god, if that isn't the hottest thing. Louis sometimes fantasizes on having his own come carried right beneath that buttplug.

On Thursdays, which is Louis' personal favourite of them all days, heyangel98 uploads videos where he wears these... certain costumes. Like for example, a lady nurse's costume, where the skirt is just too tight for his meaty thighs, making them bulge against the fabric, causing Louis to actually bite on his knuckles as he aches to touch. Or that one time the boy wore a bunny rabbit costume, complete with the bunny ears and white choker around his neck, fucking himself senseless with a purple double headed dildo, releasing the sweetest moans Louis had ever heard. Thursdays. Role play day.

Now, again, since it's a Friday, Louis is expecting heyangel98 to wear something (the last time he wore some bear patterned socks with nothing else) while he humps on something until he comes, or maybe use another huge sex toy and come untouched. Be it he humps his pillow, his bed sheets, one of the posts of his pretty queen-sized bed, or just anything, Louis yet doesn't know, being just an audience himself. Well. He's willing to find out.

Clicking on the new uploaded video of heyangel98, which has the thumbnail of his obscene pair of red plump lips near the camera lense, his nose, and some of his curly hair that's framing his face, some draped down his shoulders, Louis is firstly welcomed calmly by the boy, greeting him with a deep slurry voice. A voice Louis' come to be fond of over the months.

"Hi, Kitten," murmurs Louis to his screen, as his very personal response.

"You're back again, I see," heyangel98 is saying, languid dimpled smile plastered on his beautiful face flashing on Louis' laptop screen. "Can't get enough of me, huh?"

_Yes, fuck_ , answers Louis' mind.

The boy on the video is sat mermaid-style on his bed, ivory thighs pressed close together as per usual, and he is yet to take off his clothes. From what Louis can make out (because the stupid oldie he is didn't wear his glasses so now he's a bit blind), the boy is wearing an oversized lilac jumper that makes it to his lower waists, and then just another one of his lace panties as his bottoms, which now is the color of Lee. Black.

_Hmm. Sexy._

His curly hair looks soft tonight, Louis notes, and his eyes are glazed like he's just done coming, which, Louis hopes not, because he would've wanted to witness that himself... Bummer if he didn't.

"So it's a Friday, my lovelies. Some of you probably know what that means already..." purrs the boy on Louis' screen, already taking his top off. _Slowly now, slowly but surely._ And until he's topless. Fuck, his nipples looks pink and fluffy. "For the new subscribers, tonight, I'll be wearing a prop as I use this big baby." He delicately lifts up a hot red dildo that's probably around Louis' size, showing it off on the camera like the tease he is. The twink smiles seductively as he retrieves his hand, sending a wink to his viewers--to Louis. "In a few you'll see this disappear inside my bum hole. Feeling excited?"

Louis sucks in a deep breath, hearing heyangel98 giggle softly in his ears, already holding onto himself through his trackies, adjusting it a little. The show hasn't even started, yet here is Louis, quick to get hard himself. Shame.

As the boy crawls toward the camera, red dildo left on the side of the bed, he bends over a little, obviously reaching for something on the floor. And then he redeems himself afterwards, curls bouncing along, holding out what Louis suspects is a hat. It's black and it corresponds to his black lace panties, to which Louis deems is just perfect for the complexion of his porcelain skin. All ivory, fully shaven and tends to flush when thoroughly used, or maybe pinched. _Peachy._

Beautiful.

Going back to his position earlier, the camboy wears the hat atop his head, and--holy fuck. Louis realizes now, it's a beret. A fucking _beret_? This boy is going to be the death of Louis, seriously. This is new; heyangel98 hasn't worn one of these from what Louis can recall since he's started subscribing to his videos. Jesus. "As you can see, tonight I'm a French twink for you. Or summat. It's your choice anyway--always your choice."

Settling back, the boy before anything else thanks everyone who payed for his videos--for the new subscribers and for the tips he got the day before yesterday. Louis waits. Patience, he thinks.

"Alright, I recon we're all set now," says camboy sweetly seconds late to his acknowledgments, thighs spread out now, bum and front still covered with his black lace panties flashed on the camera. Louis can't help swallow thickly like the weak guy he is, seeing the twink's pretty cock through the thin fabric of his panties, watching on as heyangel98 lube up the dildo with some brand he uses. "And now, the real show begins..."

It's more or less a 10 minute long video. Louis throughout it has seen heyangel98, firstly, to pull at his panties and gather the fabric on one side of his perky bum, so his pinkish hole is exposed for the dildo to enter it--slivers of his pinkish balls could be seen, and Jesus. Louis almost died on that scene. Secondly, the boy prepped himself up by inserting a finger in him. His thrusts went slowly, fingering himself gently... moaning softly as well of course, which caused Louis to bite on his lip while he watched.

And until the beautiful camboy went a bit wilder, adding a second finger. His hole stretched wide, and fuck if that didn't make Louis harder. He finally started to jack himself off from then, looking out on his cats that kept on rounding his feet.

Thirdly, the boy holding the lubed up red dildo in his right hand, lined the sex toy up against his puckered pink hole and, with his teeth gritting subtly as it happened, pushed it inside himself slowly, slowly, slowly, letting it disappear in there. _In between his rosy arse cheeks_. And gosh, his eyes rolled back.

It was obvious to Louis what the boy must be feeling on those first few moments the big red dildo inserted him, presumably for the way he had bite on his lower lip as he fucked himself, even throwing his head back. Pain, Louis thought. But then he carried on, and Louis had to refrain himself from coming too soon, seeing the outline of heyangel98's throat. The beauty of it made him want to litter lovebites across it, nip at it. Bite.

Camboy heyangel98 started letting out a mellowed series of moans came 6:57 minutes to his video, then came 7-8 minutes of it, all the boy did was wreck his hole and probably hit his sweet spot for he kept on breathlessly whimpering. From there Louis had known. He was feeling nothing but pleasure, prostate being nudged by the head of his big baby.

It was such a fucking good show. The beret didn't slip from his head too, which only made the whole thing even more seamless.

Louis' entire night, as well as the amount of cash he payed for the video after he saw heyangel98 ride his orgasm _untouched_ , and squirted come to his tummy, have all been quite worth it and inexplicably paid off in the end. Louis also did come minutes prior to that. He's a weak ass man to the one he is obsessive about.

Apparently.

Louis logs off his account just when the pretty twink has said his goodbye and blew off a kiss to the camera with a promise of another video on Monday. _It was all worth it, god_ , groans Louis mentally, _my kitten._

♡♡♡♡

Louis has come down to his high now, from watching the latest video of his favourite camboy, and thus he can finally stand up from the couch. A bit wobbly, but of course.

He already switched off his laptop, has answered a few emails he got from his mates, Niall and Zayn, whom he told the news about his application statuses, so now he can head off to bed. The can of Coke nearby his couch has also long been drank empty, Louis notes. Whatever, that junk can wait til tomorrow, he feels rather sleepy now. Especially after his orgasm.

Louis walks, and he feels uncomfortable all the sudden. Then he remembers. His trackies feels sticky because of his come. Right.

Passing by Lee and Saturn, who are peacefully snuggling by the carpet, Louis heads to the loo to take a shower. All thoughts of the camboy wearing a black beret atop his mop of majestic curls, fucking himself in bliss, Louis tries to wash away with his other forms of filth, let them altogether go down the drain with his dried come.

He stares at the water being drained.

And like, no, Louis doesn't think the memory of heyangel98 left his head at all. _Fat chance._

Later on, Louis sleeps the night off, wearing his best hand-me-downs, dreaming of a boy with the softest looking curls, skin a shade of ivory, strawberry red tainted lips, and--perky bum, and then that gorgeous, gorgeous face. Louis sighs amidst it, longing to see clearly what the boy's real eye color might be.


	2. waking up beside you, i'm a loaded gun ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> green meets blue.  
> blue has quite a lot of internal crises.  
> green is with his girl gang c:

The weekends were spent dully, as per usual. Just a normal happenstance to Louis though, that. He went to the local town library and reviewed some of his previous lessons back when he was in Oxford, knowing it could be the same as this potential job he deemed about having. He also visited a friend after that. Niall Horan-Malik. Rich Irish boy Louis had met from one of his attended theatrical plays, living with his other half towns away from Louis' flat, carefree lad and married to his other mate, Zayn.

For the rest of their Saturday, since Zayn was out and he didn't really share the same love of his husband for this certain sport, they played golf at Niall's ideal golf course just because Niall said he'd missed it. Louis complied, considered saying why not? He loves Niall, he has fun when he's with him, and usually, they would just get high or maybe get drunk. That's just how Niall is when spending quality bonding time with someone, and Louis very much knows this. Mostly approves of his ruckuses too.

So having brought some drinks and chips with them, two of Niall's bodyguards tagging along and some, they spent their day golfing and cruising around the golf field, with mostly tipsy Louis driving the golf cart, and rosy-cheeked Niall blabbering on and on about how happy he is with Zayn, the love of his life. Louis listened to him with the fondest smile he could ever muster, silently going envious by the second as Niall went on from day one of them being married, and then to that fateful, gloomy Saturday. They'd been texting during his telltale, Louis was sure, even if Niall neither showed nor told him.

Came Sunday, Louis dropped by the church. He missed his mum, his sisters and brother, that was why he went. He tends to talk to whoever is up there just so he can request for them to look over his family down here. It's ironic if you come to think of it, considering he's one sinful loser who has the affinity for kinks and role playing into wrecking themselves camboys...

Louis would always tell himself it's normal. People have fetishes, people have got kinks, it's completely methodical. He's fine, everything's fine.

Anyway. After that visit to the church, Louis had gone downtown to run some errands. It'd been quite some time since he payed the market a visit, which meant his fridge and cupboards lacking of stuff he needed. That given, Louis bought some boxes of milk, cans of goodies, some cat food for Lee and Saturn, and then some things else that had been idling amongst his lists of needs. Then again, he didn't check out just some from his needs list, but also from his wants list.

He handpicked some new clothes to be added to his wardrobe--he would be going to Saint Bridget soon that day, so he figured he could use some brand new stuff to cloak himself with. On another note, Louis also bought some new lubes for his stocks, and then other toiletry items in order to be equipped.

Today is a Monday, and Louis is off to Saint Bridget minutes from now, finally, after all the anticipation and longing. Big day for him. He finishes showering, hours under the spray looking like a crazed albeit anxious man practicing his speech for later, for whatever it is that's waiting for him. Louis begs to perfect, to get in, so if he has to practice for whichever, he will.

He gets back to his bedroom long after that, padding toward his wardrobe with a towel wrapped around his waists, hair wholly damped and disheveled. He's got an outfit all ready for him to get into for today's appointment, and Louis' just so thankful he got them folded and hung a day prior because now James is texting him, bugging him with questions of where he is now and what's taking him so long.

Dressed in his formal attire, slacks and coat with a tie, Louis gets into the tube to Saint Bridget, Winchester, with only his phone, his messenger bag and glasses perched atop his nose. This look should do it, he thinks, this look should do the trick. _He will be hired today, the people there would want to hire someone who looks like him._

Getting out the subway moments later and making it out the streets, Louis is greeted by the tall buildings of the city and its beauty accentuated by shops and trees and people of ages. He walks among them, not really trying on anything but just to get to where James has told him he'd be, so that he can brief him before going to that school.

Given where he is now is nearby the said school, Louis can already see students strolling around the place. The laughter they let out about something one of them in bunches said; the sways of the girls' skirts as the air breeze passes by, making some of them squeal as they pin their skirts down, some giggling because of the coolness it probably brought them. Louis sees this, and it makes him smile inwardly. The scene before him, the kids carrying their school bags, the teenaged boys riding cars and stopping for their girlfriends by the curbs, other professors being greeted politely by their homeroom class--all of this. This brings some nostalgic feeling to Louis. Because see, he's once been here. He's once felt this, seen this in a daily. And what days have those been. Louis missed everything about this.

And now he's back, and he's feeling so, so happy.

"Mate, you came! Finally!" James greets enthusiastically, standing up from his chair across Louis by the table just to hug him, chuckling in his ear as they part. They meet up at a coffee shop, where there are a few straying students in their uniforms, some not wearing blazers, he notes (maybe Louis should keep an eye out on those if the inevitable is him becoming a teacher), and Louis can surely see the school now from all the way here. From what he can make out of it, it's like a mini castle with dark bricks as its walls, the gates the color of the night, and the roofs all maroon and a whole lot old. There are vines on walls, covering some parts of the school itself, and the windows are a bit massive, like it's a church and birds are welcome inside. Overall, Saint Bridget looks vintage, which Louis thinks is quite understandable knowing ancient styled facilities, and--he loves it here already.

"Of course I did, silly," comes Louis' reply to James. The old dude laughs, and its sound alone makes Louis laugh himself too. After a bit of bantering here and there, James eventually orders for the both of them, and then they do some catching up. Louis learns that James is back in Oxford, because the principal there said they needed him, given that months prior, a lot of teachers filed their resignations because of the low pay. Considering James has got the passion for teaching, he grabbed on the opportunity and now he's one of the highest payed teachers in Oxford University. Which, wow. Louis is so proud of him for that.

On the other hand, while they drink their coffees (or tea, in Louis' case), James gives him a little briefing about this new school. James tells him about the pros and cons, as thought it was already written in stone Louis is a part of this academy, to which Louis takes as a yes. Probably. _Well, hopefully._ He tells him how students are, how his future co-teachers are, and how the principal is. Louis knows about this already, he's an expert at this and, well, shouldn't James know about that already?

Anyway, Louis stays patient throughout it, listening well and nodding his agreements at the right times, and before he knows it, he's finally entering the school gates of Saint Bridget's Academy, trying his best to appear confident and relaxed after compromising with the guards, walking his way toward the main doors and into the building itself. James has long gone for his own class, driving his blue Mustang away with another hug to Louis, and thus this is all on Louis and Louis' alone to face now. He's fine with it, the kids surrounding him with looks of _who is that?, is he new here?, I haven't seen that face around here_ , are all nothing to him; thanks to James, he thinks it's safe to say he's technically a professor here--a future official one at that.

"Oh, so you're the one sir Corden has been speaking of, aren't you, lad?" A lady in some navy blue uniform, blouse and pencil skirt completed with gold buttons and some cream collar and sleeves, hair up in an elegant bun, asks as soon as Louis' introduced himself. He's inside the principal's office now after a few minutes of searching, and Louis knows this is she herself, Principal Cleo Agatha, the one James named earlier as one of the owners of this premise.

"Yes, ma'am, the one and only. In fact, Mr. Corden and I just had a talk during coffee moments prior from now," Louis supplies, nodding politely. He's smiling easily at this, sat up straight with his hand on his lap, messenger bag astray. He doesn't intend to lose this particular smile he's wearing, seeing as Principal Cleo Agatha seems to like it.

Or _loved_ it anyway. Louis got the job. Cleo Agatha instructed him to start tomorrow, no coaxing needed, even informing and adding, "as soon as possible, because two of our old employees resigned the other day, and that was why we looked through people's applications anyway... We really do need you, Mr. Tomlinson. We are grateful to have you."

Louis walks out the principal's office with a smile of satisfaction in his face. He looks from his left to right as he makes his way out, drinking in the place and the look of the corridors he's walking on. So first, high ceilings and chandeliers as lighting. Fancy. Second, two doors to each room inexplicably wide and massive, like entering cinemas, probably. Well, Louis shall get on with that tomorrow. Third, quiet atmosphere, like, where are the students? Who are, by the way, teenagers. Why aren't they being noisy?

Hmm. Fourth, immaculately neat floors. There is a sign that says _No Loitering_ on the wall, but like, is that how it is here? Just because someone said no loitering, it means _no loitering_? James wasn't kidding then when he said this is in fact a private school. But he never mentioned for boring students though. These kids must be hella obedient. Don't get Louis wrong, because if that's the case then he's thankful as fuck. But then again though... Louis almost wants to roll his eyes--his own teenage years in school never did him wrong like this, Jesus.

Again, Jesus. Fifth! When Louis stepped out the main doors, he was greeted by a bunch of students who actually _bowed down to their waists_ and said, "Good to see you, new professor. We hope you enjoy your stay here."

Louis is taken aback by this kind of etiquette, because wow. "Well, well," he muses, looking at the bunch. They're all in complete uniform, he notes, with the blazer, necktie for the boys, bows for the ladies, and--okay, Louis is thoroughly impressed. "And how did you guys know I'm a new professor around here?"

"We just know, sir," one girl replies, smiling broadly.

"Yes! You seem like one, that's why," another girl chimes, nodding.

"But the real question is, are you?" A boy asks this time.

Well, what can Louis do? He doesn't need to lie, or make these boys and girls guess anymore, there's no point.

So he nods, telling them the truth. The students grin and smile, welcoming him once more. And then Louis is ushered out there later on, the kids making him say he'll see them all tomorrow (if they get to be in his class, that is). Nods of agreements were exchanged.

♡♡♡♡

The walk back to the coffee shop only took Louis about five minutes, tops, and this second time around he's here he's the one standing in line to take his order, waiting. He figured it's too early to go home to his flat, and by knowing his cats are probably still able to take hours without him there given he's served them food and water where he assumes they know usually were put, Louis decided against returning back to wandering on his own. Thus here he is, standing inches away a couple of people in the line toward the counter, with no one else behind him.

He thinks about what to order, crossing out tea since he's had one already and he didn't really enjoyed it. He shifts from one foot to another, considering a cup of black coffee and some bread sticks... Hmm.

Finally conversing with a crew who's to take his order, Louis rattles out what he'd like to have and then decides to wait for it right there and then since no one's next in line with him anyway.

Bells ringing seconds to his queuing, Louis hears a batch of students coming in the shop creating a bit of noise within the area. They're giggling and talking amongst themselves, he even catches one swearing, and some other whistling about something. Louis sidesteps a little thinking they'd approach the counter. They don't; it seems like they're still thinking about what to order, so Louis carries on.

"My apologies for waiting, sir, here's your order," says the same crew from earlier who took his order, placing a tray filled with his black coffee and freshly baked bread sticks. Louis nods at her, sliding his debit card over, and then patiently waits for her to return it to him.

The students behind him seem to have quiet down a little, Louis notes absently in his head, which makes him a bit wary to see, because what if there was something wrong with his back that they took a notice of? Louis' always been conscious of how he looks, besides. Despite how countless times Niall and Zayn said they'd invite him for a threesome if they ever get his go signal.

Anyway, he settles for turning around to look for a seat just as he got his card back; when he does turn, he is faced with a gaggle of girls looking back at him. Louis sees they're in the same uniform as the students he met back in Saint Bridget, and--well, they're all looking at him with different facial expressions, seemingly studying him.

He cocks an eyebrow at one point as the scene unfolds before him, mostly ridiculed because how dare these girls? Do people really tend to stare around here? _Weird_ , Louis thinks.

And he's still weirded out by the time he makes to take a bit of step, but then when his eyes land on a certain boy as he does so amongst the bunch, Louis almost peed his pants.

He double takes.

He freaking double takes and he blinks rapidly in order to force his visions clearer because _fuck._ Fuck, fuck, fuck. Standing before him, Louis is a hundred and one million percent sure, is _hey fucking angel ninety fucking eight_ , no doubt. That twink he's so keen on watching from the porn site he's come to visit just like any other weekday routine for him, all because he's such a right creep. Having seen him like this, in person, for the first time in like, _ever_ , makes Louis' head go haywire for conceivably a solid three seconds. His mind whirls back drastically and memories of a pretty flushed cock, pinkish puckered hole and sexy perky bum flash before his eyes; seductive moans of one twink Louis addresses as Kitten privately in his own echoing in his head, whimpers and cries of pleasures felt sounding shortly; sex toys and buttplugs and kinky costumes appearing at the back of his mind, seemingly wanting to spring out his frenzied fucked up brain.

But like, fuck. How? How come he meets him here? Of all places and circumstances? Does he-- _oh hell no_. Louis' mouth dries. Does he attend Saint Bridget? What the fuck? Louis is immensely confused, blood rising to his head, because why is this happening?

The boy is looking back at him as Louis is to him. And he's... well, he's much more attractive in person. Way, way, way attractive. _Pretty._ With his cheeks all rosy pink, mouth--oh fucking gosh those lips--looking rather obscene, eyes so _green_ (so they're pools of greens then) and Bambi wide that Louis almost thought he's just an innocent little boy, which, he's not and Louis knows that. It's also a pity he knows what the abilities of that mouth the boy has as well; the fact it can certainly swallow Louis' dick without gagging on it, because this beautiful boy is just such an expert. At least according to Louis' judgement with all those Monday videos of heyangel98 where he blows all sorts of dildos. Holy mother of Monday. Today is a Monday. Did that mean he--

Oh shit. _Shit, shit, shit._ Why is Louis even thinking about this right now? This boy could be one of his students starting tomorrow, he doesn't even know! Because like, he's wearing the same uniform as any boy in Saint Bridget, with the whole SBA patch sewed nicely on the breast pocket of his blazer, the navy blue trousers as his bottoms, and then the white button up underneath as his top, and--damn it to hell and back. The _beret_ he wore on his latest uploaded video that Friday, he's also wearing that. Louis is totally fucked. But also, he wants to touch those curls... he thinks they'll feel so soft and smooth and bouncy beneath his palms.

Again, _what is he even thinking?_

"Earth to Mr. Creeper," one of the girls amongst the bunch finally deadpans, snapping her fingers, and also Louis out of his miserable thinking. Louis blinks at that, mouth slightly slacked that he afterwards realizes, making him close it quickly.

The girls giggle as their reaction to his ridiculousness, making Louis blush hotly from his throat all the way up to his head. God, this is such a disaster. _He_ is such a walking disaster.

Louis murmurs, a bit panicky, "Sorry, s-sorry," and then he makes to get a move out the way. But then his heart skips a beat as he sees the boy smiling shyly up at him, long eyelashes casted down, and--oh goodness does he look so pretty and young and naughty disguised as innocent. Louis is a mess.

"It's all good, mister, 's just--we're kinda ready to order now, so," says one girl again, obviously keeping a stern look for a serious connotation, trying hard not to laugh at Louis' stupidly pathetic self.

He isn't able to say anything else from that point on, just lowers his head in yet another apology, as he scrambles out the scene. The most awkward scene he's ever been in, that's for damn sure.

Before he goes to whichever is available seat, he vaguely hears them chattering about what's just happened. "Eleanor, that's so mean of you. Poor guy," one girl hisses at the other.

"Well, it's obvious he was staring," Eleanor, who Louis presumes was the one who snapped her fingers at him just now, says with a scoff. "Not just staring... he was drooling over pretty boy right here."

Louis' heart lurches.

She's pertaining to heyangel98. She's damn right about that... _Smart mouth that Eleanor girl possesses_ , Louis thinks. He still hasn't heard the boy speak though. He wants to hear his voice in person.

"Still though," the same girl who hissed mumbles, "you could've just talked to him politely. I know Haz would've."

_Haz_? Louis wonders who Haz is amongst the bunch.

Settling back down to a vacant seat at last, Louis can't help look over the counter where they are; just to check and see. See whatever was the result to what he's done just now.

It looks to him that everything's back to normal. A tall, skinny blond girl who's got another one who's just as skinny as her, but slightly taller, that's a black-haired one clinging rather possessively to her side, is talking to the crew behind the counter, ordering for them. The one with the long wavy brunette hair is talking animatedly to the other one almost identical to her, lips moving fast, hands gesturing in the air, something Louis doesn't really want to get further invested with, because then... there is him.

The prettiest of them all in the eyes of Louis. Long legs, converse clad feet turned in to themselves, lovely locks draped down as he bows his head, smiling down on the ground. He looks so stunning--really innocent too. His cheeks are flushed, looking so smooth and clear and soft, denting of dimples whenever he changes facial expressions. Louis is mesmerized, _hooked_ , like he wanna see more. More, more, more.

When the boy looks up, his attention goes directly to where Louis is longing silently to him, and thus he catches Louis looking at him. Startled, Louis averts his gaze and lowers his head, glasses almost slipping off his nose, eyes flicking down to his drink. _He got caught, how tactless._ His heart won't stop beating madly against his chest, seemingly begging to break out of his skin.

As he sees them in the corner of his eyes retreating somewhere with their trays of order, Louis once again hears them talking to themselves, as though it's intentional from this point on. Louis doesn't care, he eavesdrops.

"...He's so handsome though," Identical to wavy brunette is saying, "Is he new here?"

"I-D-K. But I heard Mr. Cowell has been replaced."

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

They were gone after that, and Louis didn't even get to take a last glance at heyangel98 before they took off the streets, skies a natural grey colour, a typical British weather. Louis sighs.

He goes home after his coffee and bread sticks, taking the tube to his flat; when he steps a foot in his humble home, it's only then that Louis realizes the stickiness in his pants. And _fuck_ , he curses mentally, if this is what heyangel98 is gonna cause him every freaking time he so much as takes a bit of space near Louis, then Louis supposes the soil underneath him should just swallow him whole right now. This can't go on, see. He's just been hired to Saint Bridget's Academy, such a lovely place to rekindle with his passion for teaching, _the same place where heyangel98 is attending_. And the thing is, Louis doesn't want to feel like leaving the place, just because he can't contain himself around one boy. Louis doesn't want to feel like getting the hell out of a certain place, just because he can't control his emotions toward that _one_ boy.

Oh, but he's not just a boy though, that's the problem. He _is_ Louis' favourite porno industry sensation. The one who makes Louis' fantasies fulfilled. The one who gets Louis off every night... hand wrapped around his own dick.

He's just simply one of the best twinks out there, the most subscribed to as well. Swallowing thickly as realization dawns on him, Louis wonders if all those girls heyangel98 is friends with know about his nature of work... Whether the students there are aware they've got a porn star walking amongst them... Whether, _Jesus Christ_ , the teachers there know about heyangel98 attending some of their classes.

This is all a lot to take in for Louis. His head is hurting.

Maybe... maybe Louis needs to calm down. The boy doesn't know he himself _knows_ about him being a camboy anyway. No one does in that school, in that place, in fact. He's got a secret to keep.

Right. Louis should get a hold of himself. It's the right thing to do.

Breathing in and out, Louis wills himself to forget about what just happened back at the coffee shop and thinks about readying his stuff for his tomorrow's first day in class. Besides, he's bought some notebooks and Montblanc pens already, all but just waiting for him to get packed. But before that though, he changes his bottoms firsthand.

Because he can't work with a jizz clinging to his pants now, can he? This thing the pretty boy with the beautiful green eyes can do to him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls tell me if u like this or not, like, should i continue with this or nah?  
> if u want to talk my tumblr is harriepatootie xx
> 
> oh and louis has an ass tattoo and i'm so fclsfdejdking alive waahh


	3. he walks in and the room just lights up ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we meet the other teachers, louis learns the names of harry and his girl gang.

Louis had had to pay via his debit card under heyangel98's bank account name _twice_ that same day he first met him, just so he could get access to some of his high quality videos quickly like a troubled, anxious loon. After contemplating for hours whether he should or shouldn't touch the subject of finding out his suspicions being true, in the end Louis had needed to make sure that whom he saw yesterday, really was the same twink he'd been obsessing over for the past 6 months.

And right on the head he'd nailed it.

He is indeed the one for sure. _For real_. Louis is so, so doomed. Does he need to bring tissues to work now just in case he jizzes his pants again? Jesus... He honest to God can feel his crotch tightening already just thinking about having to see the twink again.

He's actually quite nervous--or not, nervous is such an understatement--going back to Saint Bridget today, to start his first class with his soon-to-meet students. Will he be teaching in heyangel98's homeroom? Will he see him from now on every single day? And for the most part, will he be able to contain himself each time? Too many questions, too many probabilities, and Louis feels quite... scared if he's honest. He feels rather lightheaded, knuckles turning white as he clutches on the pole inside the tube for his dear old life.

He's about stepping out this train seconds to this worried thinking, and he doesn't even know if he'll be able to make it to Saint Bridget without wanting to back out. He's been dreading about this since last night, after he's watched some other old albeit HQ videos of heyangel98, sex hazy and horny afterwards. _He wanked over an alleged student of his, fucking themselves in pure bliss._ Louis should be ashamed--well, heck, he does feel ashamed. He didn't even get to style his hair before leaving this morning, out of some brain-shitting anxiety that's eating at him. Louis is feeling so guilty he wants to bang his head against a wall.

But that won't be ideal for now though, since he's finally here. The doors of the tube slide open, the sounds of them nagging on Louis' senses. He steps out of it then, jogs up the stairs, and frees himself off the subway.

Walking through the same path as yesterday, Louis does see the exact same scenarios as well, except maybe for the fact that this second time around students have gone thicker and noisy than the first, laughter and giggles heard over the car horns and bike messengers' drive-passes.

Louis walks fast, careful not to let his glasses slip off atop his nose despite his rushing, and then makes it in no time in front of the school gates with a wildly rabbitting heartbeats. There are kids already littered around the place, flowerbeds and grasses occupied by some who are probably yet to get to their classes, some chattering about nothing and everything, some paying Louis some mind as they stop their strolls midway just to say Hi. He nods at their directions curtly, giving off acknowledgements politely, and then he's off. The wind is blowing on his face and hair; he doesn't appreciate it.

Visiting the faculty before anything else, knowing it was one of principal Cleo Agatha's instructions to him yesterday, Louis is met with a few co-teachers who are having their breakfasts (it seems), while looking like taking down some notes in their lesson plan binders. No one sees him yet... which, awkward. Louis stands there by the door, running a hand through his hair self-consciously, and until one teacher perks up, waving him over.

"Hello," the guy in some white polo long sleeves and brown trousers greets, muscular and toned-looking, kind of deflecting such warmth-radiating puppy eyes they also possess, smiling at Louis from where he sits. "You're the new teacher, am I right? Mr. Louis Tomlinson?"

Nodding as he feels slight relief washing over him, Louis steps forward and sticks a hand out. "I am, yes. Hello to you too..."

"Liam. Liam Payne," supplies the guy--Liam Payne--with a huge sunny grin across his face. "Nice to meet you, mate. You teaching English class?"

"Yeah, I am," Louis confirms, smiling. From there, the other four teachers inside the faculty introduce themselves to Louis too, stating their names with polite indignation. So the Drama teacher, Louis learns, is Liam Payne, one who's got a passion for it, he claims; the one handling Information Tech is Barbara Walters, the oldest in their bunch; the one who teaches Biology and Physics is Julian Bunetta, looking quite Hipster and quite frankly, stern in his cowboy-ish get up; the one who teaches Maths is Aiden Grimshaw, one who Louis finds a little bit hot, though in a complimenting way only. Then lastly, the P.E. instructor is called Caroline Watson, one who's quirky and seemingly sassy, just by what Louis can already tell given she and Aiden have been throwing witty remarks back and forth, at least.

Well, give Louis some time here, yeah? He'll know each and every one of them better soon enough.

Besides, he's not planning on going anywhere... yet, even if here is where a certain twink lurks.

Whatever.

♡♡♡♡

"So tell me, Mr. Tomlinson," Aiden starts to say, hopping up the long table at the center of the faculty room, sounding pretty conversational, only that Louis cuts him quick though.

"Louis," he tells him. "Just call me Louis, mate."

"Louis," Aiden retries, nodding with a smile. "Okay then, _Louis_. Tell me, where did you come from?"

By this time, Louis has long settled to the table he'll be residing from now on within the faculty room, since Liam made sure he's already feeling at home before getting to his first class, and Louis is grateful for that. He swivels his chair around where he's been sitting as he arranges his stuff, faces Aiden and the others. "Well, I'm originally from Doncaster. Up North."

"Oh, hence the accent then," Caroline pipes in, humming in recognition. She's still inside the room, she and Aiden and Barbara, writing some notes down from what Louis can tell. "I knew I was hearing something I'm familiar with."

Louis nods. "Yeah. Uhm, that's right. Anyway, that was when I was a teen. Ever since I graduated from Uni, I long moved to London, and then to Oxford a couple years later--where my last occupation had been destined, by the way--and then two, well, almost three, years later I moved here."

"I see. That sounds..." Aiden trails off, seemingly looking for the right thing to say.

"Adventurous," Barbara offers. Aiden nods his head, grinning at her. "I thought so, too. But good on you, lad." She addresses Louis with a raise of an eyebrow, voice slow and a bit inaudible. "You chose to go here. This school is a very friendly zone. You'll fit right in in no time."

Louis nods, smiling too. "Well, I'm looking forward to it, Mrs. Walters."

"Bet on it!" Aiden chirps. Louis almost chuckled.

"Anywho," Caroline whistles, stealing everyone's attention. She stands up from her chair and pads toward the door. "I'm off, sirs and madame. Got a class to teach and discipline today." That said, Caroline walks out the door but not after she gestures a curt salute to them. Louis likes Caroline already.

Well, actually, this entire group of teachers. They're all laid-back and sociable, easy to converse with. Louis can get used to this.

"As much as I'm having fun talking to you my new fellow co-teachers, I'm afraid I should go," Louis announces after a while, stuff finally sorted out in his area, marginally happy and contented about it. He's got his own stapler--a school's provided item--pencils cup holder, an empty pin portrait, and a white marble flower vase at the right hand corner of his Promethean desk. Everything looks good so far (or really, for Louis it is quite already--he's not the most neat person out there) and Louis' all but ready to hit the corridors, navigate his way and locate his class.

With last waves coming from both Barbara and Aiden as Louis descends toward the exit, also with last wishes of good luck from them, Louis finally walks out the faculty room and executes quick strides along the hallways. Like the last time he was here which was yesterday, the place itself is once again quiet and clean. _Really impressive_ , he thinks to himself as he goes, _whoever may be the janitor around here should be rewarded._

Found the closed doors of what Louis is sure about being his class, Louis takes a deep breath firsthand while he stands there, wishes heyangel98 isn't inside to wreck him mentally into a puddle of lacking self-control, and then--lastly--pushes the doors open. He strolls in, breath still held, eyes searching the room.

And...he's finally able to breathe after having realized the twink isn't here. He didn't see any mop of long curly locks, no dimples from someone smiling, no pretty little twink face that would cause Louis' death. _Okay, great, this is good._

"Good morning, children," Louis greets, opting for casual friendliness but also with a hint of mischief, smiling broadly at the entire homeroom itself. Everyone was talking amongst themselves when Louis walked in, some even chuckling at something and the others huddled in groups, but that was then though, because right now everyone's attention is on him. The ones who are huddled in groups start splitting up to go back to their designated seats. Good.

Louis eyes his class, looking at each of his students' faces, wanting all but to familiarize quite immediately. But of course that would be rather impossible though, since he's just got here, and he isn't really all that good at memorizing especially with something that doesn't just easily _stick_ , but...

But right there. Right on one corner, at the far side of the room, _are_ the same girls Louis stumbled upon back in the coffee shop yesterday. He can clearly remember those faces, the hair, the eyes, the _mirthful smirks_ on their faces. Louis swallows subtly, panic surging through him just with the mere thought of heyangel98 being a part of this class after all, worst case scenarios flooding his brain that maybe the boy just excused himself to use the loo and that he's about coming back now, which, _fuck._

Not averting his gaze away from them yet though, knowing that if he did that, they might just get the wrong impression and think he was scarred about something that occurred that same day (which yes, yes he was), Louis thinks about standing up for himself and don't let these kids get to him. Because he's the professor here, is he not? Thus, he ought to be the one to dominate. Not them. Not their silly smirking most especially.

So with a silent huff, Louis stares the girls down as if to tell them _he's not having any of it_ , which yeah, he isn't, no. One girl that is blond and fierce-looking waves at him, as though they're friends now. Louis wants to shake his head at this, because it's a no. The other one, dimpled hair brunette girl, rolls her eyes, seemingly annoyed with her friends. Louis thinks the feeling is mutual. The one with the long jet-black hair who was clinging to the one who waved, the same one who ordered for them all from yesterday, looks like she's not caring about whatever is going on.

Well, Louis still continues to stare them down, smouldering them all to death. At the back of his mind, he wonders where heyangel98 is. Because if his friends are all here, then how come he's not?

No matter. Louis' death stare is not giving in. They all stare back, the blond one hesitantly putting her hand down with a disappointed look on her face.

...And until one of them eventually looks away and out the window, that Louis smiles inwardly feeling victorious. He looks over the rest of his class again.

"One more time then, yeah? Since y'all didn't seem to hear me. _Good morning_ , class." He said this with pure confident, as well as with emphasis, smiling still and nodding. No one reacts. "Hey, what's up with you lot? Didn't take your vitamins? Didn't eat your breakfast before leaving this morning? The lot of you have got no energy; I don't like it. Again! I wanna hear you! Good morning, class!" This time, the students greet him back. A bit enthusiastic, almost everyone grinning. He nods in appreciation, grinning too, " _Alright!_ That's what I'm talkin' about!" And from there he begins his class.

He starts off by introducing himself. He tells a bit about him next, says he was from Oxford University, which has earned him a couple of musings and acknowledgments. Louis can't help feel proud of himself about that, since Oxford is such a known school around England and everyone knows that.

A couple minutes in to his conversion with the class, Louis decides to move on with his next task, hopping up his desk and smoothly crossing his legs, while holding up a clipboard he found in the drawers. He scans the list of names of his students, opting for checking the attendance.

It started off with him calling out on each student with surnames starting with letter A--it's in alphabetical order, the list--putting a check next to their first names on the paper, trying to somehow memorize them. After a while, he gets to letter C. And then he calls on for a girl with the surname Calder, looking up to see if it really is the Eleanor from yesterday. Well, it indeed is. One of the girls from the coffee shop grunted a _here_ , and Louis' eyebrows immediately raise.

"Okay," he muses, checking her on the list. He proceeds.

By the time he got all three girls' names so far out of that certain group--Eleanor Calder, Cara Delevingne, and Kendall Jenner--that's the time Louis Tomlinson dies.

Or not, that would be exaggerating. He might have choked on his spit though, because right there--at the doorway, looking quite lost, adorably so--stands the young, lanky, and tall (and pretty, so, so pretty in his school uniform) white boy heyangel98, Louis' one and only favourite twink ever. Fuck. "Erm, Hi," the boy lets out, voice small and shy, deep and sweetly slow. And _he speaks_ , Louis' frenzied mind squeaks, _he speaks and it sounded like music in Louis' ears._ He finally heard him talk in flesh. Also, what the heck is he doing here?

"Hello?" Louis replies, quite dumbly if he's honest. He quickly looks back to his class after he's said that then, just to check if he came off too obvious regarding his nervousness, and also just to see if he's in trouble because of that.

Well. He sees something else entirely instead.

He notices that almost half the boys' population of the entire room had their heads perked up, some biting their lips and some blushing, all looking at heyangel98 like the boy is some prey of some sorts and this is the lion's den. A pang of whatever-this-is courses through Louis' veins and goes straight to his guts, something constricting bothering his stomach, just by seeing that. And also adding the fact that the look on their faces says it all--the way they eye heyangel98 by the door. The way that some of them are even almost drooling...

With that, Louis can't help think as he narrows his gaze, _maybe they know. It wasn't just him. Everyone probably knows._ Louis isn't sure how that possibility should sit with him.

"I'm truly sorry I'm late... uhm. I'm in the right room though, aren't I?" Comes that syrupy slow voice of heyangel98, bringing Louis back to reality.

Turning back to face the boy, Louis lifts up his clipboard like nothing's wrong at all with him. "Uh, let's see... Name?"

"Harry Styles," someone from the room answers for him.

"It's Harry," another one chimes, "Harry Styles." Louis' left eyebrow raises now as he nods.

"Harry Styles," someone says again as if one or two people saying it still isn't enough.

But then, "I'm Harry Styles, they're, uhm...right."

_Harry Styles_. The way he said his name made Louis feel rather...exhilarated. It's different than the others who did. It's odd, it's absurd, but that's what Louis had felt. _So it's Harry Styles, then. Okay. What a fucking perfect pornstar name._

"Harry...Styles," Louis tests himself, just because--wanna try it, see what the hype about it is, why everyone's so keen on saying it. He keeps skimming through the list of names with a stern look on his face anyway, perhaps to appear unaffected, despite deep inside him he's about imploding. It sounded surreal when he was the one who said it. "Aha. Found it," he chirps, finally checking Harry Styles on the list. After that, Louis looks up to smile at the boy still standing at the door, "You may come in. I'm Louis Tomlinson by the way, your new English professor."

"New English professor..." murmurs heyangel98 (or Harry Styles. Louis should stop calling the kid with his username, or any other names, really).

"Yup."

"Oh, I... really?"

Louis blinks, a bit baffled. But mostly confused. "Really."

Harry Styles, whose mouth parted open (for some reason) as he's probably letting the information of Louis being his new professor from now on sink in, blinks at him slowly. Again, for some reason.

And well, Louis doesn't know how to react to that, doesn't know what to do about it either... except for maybe stare at the boy's obscene looking mouth as it closes little by little.

_But, see? This! This is what Louis' been dreading on happening! He should snap out of it!_

Walking inside, Harry doesn't leave the sight of him even until he's at last taking his seat with his girl friends at the back. Louis finds that kinda weird, but mostly, what he finds weirder is the guys looking at Harry Styles intensely. Like, why? _What's up with these kids?_ That brings Louis back to the probable fact that they all must know about Harry's camboying agendas.

Just imagining half of Louis' class--including himself, Jesus fucking Christ--tuning in to Harry's videos every night makes Louis' head spin around, quite frankly. He hopes he's wrong and that everyone's just looking at the boy for the nature of his beauty though...

Before proceeding with his class briefing, Louis has to ask because he's a curious bastard. "If I may ask, why are you late, Mr. Styles?"

At hearing his name, the kid's head turns quicker than one can say _paint me like one of your French girls._ Louis finds it adorable. "Oh, uhm," Harry fumbles, cheeks going pink rather so obviously. By noticing that, Louis then just realizes the faint make-up scattered on the boy's milky face. Like, there are peach glitters on his eyelids, a bit of lipstick smudge on his chin, a bit of eyeliner under his eyes, and--holy shit, did he just finish making a new video for tonight? But of course, Louis, it's a Tuesday! "I just... well, I kinda overslept, sir. I'm sorry."

Biting the inside of his cheek at hearing the boy addressing him as 'sir', Louis nods simply, and then the discussion ends at that.

Louis later on finds out that the last girl on his list out of Harry's group of girl friends is Melissa Whitelaw.

♡♡♡♡

He knows he shouldn't have done that, aware of the fact he's a damn teacher for fuck's sakes and that he should at least be a good example to the youngsters, but.

But Louis wasn't able to stop himself. _He couldn't control himself, and he'd called this would happen._ Throughout his class, he might or might not have blatantly observed Harry and his every move like some obsessed pedo. From the way the oblivious boy watched Louis with those pretty Bambi eyes while he taught, eyelids and eyelashes batting softly like he was daydreaming. His hands cupped his cheeks, listening intently at Louis' every word spoken.

Louis chanced him glances as well, just whenever he'd catch at the corner of his eyes the moments Harry would turn to face Eleanor, or Kendall, or Cara, or Melissa within his vicinity, their circle of friends. And it all had been animated per se, the way he gestured with his hands while he talked to them--his girl friends--the way his mouth moved slowly as he explained something, how they giggled quietly afterwards and then would turn their attentions back at Louis. Their professor. Louis of course would be facing else where during that instance. But alas, Louis tried to witness everything.

While Louis discussed about English history, talking about a certain late era, somehow his students would joke about something semi-related to the topic, and then all would laugh at those. That included Harry Styles. Louis couldn't help notice how cute he did it--the part where he'd cackle loudly, to which he'd notice seconds late, making his eyes widen and his hands fly to cover his mouth. It was all too...juvenile, if Louis would say so himself. Adorable. This boy, Harry, is a bundle of adorable.

_Such a kitten._

The boys whistled maliciously when Harry would recite during Louis' class, answering correctly each time (something Louis' actually shocked about considering he never thought of the boy to turn out smart), standing together with his curls that bounce. Louis would feel sheer panics every time, the thought of marveling about being protective towards the boy eliciting the reaction out of him, all but wanting to shut the boys up with their questionable attitude over Harry. It was all too foreign, indisputably unimaginable this overprotective persona that seeming want out of Louis when around Harry, and Louis doesn't think he wants to think about it any more.

So overall Louis had been fine. No one gave him a hard time in his first day (or not in a personal way anyway). In fact, everyone seemed to love him, enjoyed his teaching, even the four smirking girls at the back. Surprisingly so, they gave him respect and everyone had been so polite. Louis must admit he's liking this so far.

He's also liking the part where he's learning that heyangel98 isn't after all what he probably thought he were. That he's a delicate boy who talks slowly and trips on his own two feet, laughs loudly and then would slap his mouth to muffle it afterwards, and not the naughty, demonic faunlet Louis expected him to be in person. That despite Louis has seen his body, the entirety of him--his perky bum, his puffy nipples, the look on his face when he comes after fucking himself good--he still can extinguish the innocence and genuineness within the boy.

And he deems that such a nice, nice thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry xmas to all! i decided to update twice, bc of it :~] so enjoy!!


	4. you thought that i was just your calendar kitten ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> louis thinks he is the biggest sinner.
> 
> harry has tardiness issues and thus he has to repay his sweet prof :3

He didn't mean to. Like, it'd just been a matter of letting his curiosity subside (really, just that!) for, maybe, the last time, but. Thing was, Louis knows he's still got, if not loads then just right enough, balance from that certain multiply visited site, like around 5 quid more or less, specifically on heyangel98's--or, well, _Harry's_ (his kid, fuck)--account, so the whole time he was teaching this morning, he had known he could still watch at least one of his videos, that the money he'd put on that site was still rather accessible, the lot.

Now, ever since he knew about the boy being one of his students back from days ago, Louis had long told himself that, _no, I will never watch his videos again. The kid seems nice. Also, he's smart and polite and has the loveliest personality as a human being as far as I've been learning new things about him every day, so this thing I do have got to stop. From this point on, it should. I have to respect my student's private agendas, most especially this kind of agenda because hell, I'm being invasive as fuck-all. He might be... he might be needing the cash for all I know, so. I got to stop._ He had heaved out a long and suffering sigh.

But like, Louis was... He was curious, okay? And his 5 quid (rip), he'd been thinking about it. He didn't want it to go to waste, so... Also, learning new things about the boy every day had perhaps taken a toll on Louis. He's been swimming in it, scarily so. Just like knowing Harry's a wise kid, for example. It's a turn-on for Louis. He finds it rather...explicitly brilliant in itself. Well, Harry Styles is. Another thing is the way the boy addresses him either as Mr. Tomlinson or as Sir every day; that part reduces him into a puddle of all kinds of honored and fonding and ludicrously pulled, amiably. As though despite the fact the kid clearly isn't trying, or even is intending on flirting with him, Louis is still deep inside him _whipped_ , for one. Which, that's just inappropriately abominable.

And one of the great big examples to that is the fact that he's not calling Harry out on his constant tardiness in school. Yes, Harry always comes in late. And yes, despite being a fucking proper teacher, Louis hasn't scolded the kid about it. Why is that? Maybe because Louis is stupidly, ridiculously whipped. But that would be wrong though, considering Harry Styles is technically one of his _sons_ now for fuck's sakes, and that he is as a matter of fact Harry's teacher, his second _father figure._

And, oh god, if Louis isn't a right mess.

 _Actually_ , he is a right jerk as well, because Louis might or might not have once again fired up paypercome.com from his laptop and is once again in his trademark position all from days ago, Lee and Saturn snuggling individually at either sides of him, his eyes planted on the screen. Great. Louis is being a creep once more. _Once more. Just once_ , he reminds himself. Or more like _convinces_ himself. Whatever...

He logs his account in. And then the first thing that appears on the screen is a reminder box saying Louis still has 7 quid as his balance to get access on heyangel98's videos. Which, great. Just fucking great. Louis is so going to hell for this, because now he's so tempted to double-tap his hovering cursor on heyangel98's pretty, pretty icon.

Louis breathes in. Louis breathes out.

 _Tap-tap_ , and there goes the sound of Louis' crying soul dropping down to the depths of hell.

The ever so familiar pastel pink background of the twink loads and appears before Louis, one by one the white-streaked borders of heyangel98's unplayable videos completing their appearances as well, and Louis' only getting more and more anxious by the second. He scrolls through the account itself, heart pounding repeatedly hard in his chest, just seeing slivers of the kid's milky white body parts as thumbnails of every video he passes... And until he gets to the most recent one, which is under the Daily category, that Louis' heart just literally stopped beating altogether.

His eyes almost bulged out, having seen yet again the obscenity that is Harry Styles, especially on the thumbnail of that one particular video the boy uploaded _just 15 minutes ago._ Fuck. Just knowing the fact Harry's probably still online this minute makes Louis instantly hard. And hot. And _guilty_. As if Harry can see him, knows his plan of watching one of his videos again.

Louis immediately exits the site, shutting his laptop harder than intended. His heart is still pounding hard against his chest, cold sweats forming at the tip of his forehead and--Louis can't do this. He _shouldn't_. Mustn't.

"Fucking twinks getting to my--," He cuts himself off. Harry Styles is his student, he reminds himself. He's not just some twink anymore.

He sighs, slumping back on the couch. _What now?_

Minutes to his contemplation, his eyes finally flick back to his closed laptop. _Should I still? Shit._ Louis swallows thickly, and then reaching out, he pries his laptop open again. Louis is met with his desktop background of his idol David Beckham kicking a football.

"Meow," purrs Lee on his right all the sudden, making Louis jump. He turns to face her, heart beating erratically fast.

"Fuck it, Lee, I know!" Louis whimpers, feeling torn. Also feeling ridiculous, because wow, he's literally whining to a cat. "I know, alright? What I'm about to do is wrong in so many levels, but like--," he gestures in the air, frustrated and anxious and horny now after being in Harry's account once again, just after days of not visiting it out of self-righteousness, "--but I wanna do this, see! It's _Thursday_ , Lee. My favourite day! Role play day! And--and I can't take it anymore, it's been days. I need to know what he'll be role playing tonight!"

After his outburst, one that's left him all breathless, Louis looks at his cat as though waiting for it to lecture him about self-control and sensibility.

Granted, the cat stares back at him, yellow eyes stark against its black fur directed at his very owns, once lying figure now in a sitting position like it's afraid Louis would pounce, and--and Louis just lets out a sigh in the end, shutting his eyes as he takes his glasses off. He rubs on his temples, stressful.

What was he expecting anyway? Cats don't fucking talk, they _purr._ But Louis? Louis is fucking crazy.

♡♡♡♡

A few cans of beer, two plates of chips and one episode of Bad Blood on Netflix later, Louis finds himself at Harry Styles' page once again, looking, scrolling. He's long offline now, the boy, Louis just knows, and by that in itself somehow washes the remaining guilt within Louis' guts. Because yes, he's drank enough beers to come back and be here, the selfish git he is. Just enough alcohol in his system to gain confidence, be an unreasonable twat who has got no subconscious to guilt trip him mentally. _He's doing this, no one is here to stop him. No one._

Louis hovers the cursor over that one new video that was uploaded 3 hours ago. He double-taps it. _Buffering..._

Louis plugs his earphones on his laptop and settles back on the couch, putting the gadget atop one thigh. Moments in, the video finally begins playing, and... fuck.

Just, fuck. He's a fucking ballerina tonight. Something Louis' always dreaded to see him as one day. Thing is, Louis doesn't think he'll ever look at whatever heyangel98 roleplayed the same way ever again, not after watching him fuck himself deliciously wearing certain uniforms or costumes, writhing boneless on his bed. Much like the last time he roleplayed being a nurse. Louis had been in such a state of mess, couldn't go on a day at that one particular hospital where Zayn was confined months ago, without thinking about sexual activities inside his head just by seeing passing nurses within his vicinity. He could swear he had been seeing the twink in them, bent over some hospital bed, silver dildo thrusting in and out of his pretty little ass.

It was ridiculous, Louis was, and now... now... _oh God, Louis' sisters are all... they're all fucking ballerinas._

"Hi," Harry from the video once and for all greets, that slow drawl Louis knows now is only being used in his videos sounding in his ears, the boy from his screen breaking into a wicked half-smile, bringing Louis back to his senses, to the now. "You're back again to see me naked?"

 _Yes, kitten_ , says Louis' drunk subconscious. _Yes._

"Well, that's good. Because I waited, you know. For Thursday... for me to wear these..." Harry in the video kneels on the mattress, showing off his fuchsia pink tutu, his pastel pink leotard all thin and the fabric looking so soft, that the outline of his hard nipples are quite emphasized. Louis' dick twitches in his trackies, lips parting embarrassingly right away. And fuck if this is not the weirdest shit. Apparently, having met your favourite camboy in real life, and then finding out later you in fact are their teacher, and also having to know a bit about their personality in a rather professional way, will make you feel all sorts of things. Things that Louis can't explain and can't put into words, seeing as he's illiterate whenever he tunes in to heyangel98's videos. Regardless, Louis genuinely feels like something's changed in him; he feels it as he sees the same person who calls him Sir or Mr. Tomlinson in a shy and respectful way for days now just about jacking himself off minutes from now.

"Tada! I'm your pretty ballerina tonight, my lovely viewers. Ain't that just nice?" He winks. "I'm gonna fuck myself looking like your daughter... like your sister. Kinky, eh?" He grins, and then he's back on looking serious. "Who's excited?"

 _Me_ , squeaks Louis' half-drunk subconscious now.

As he forges on, picking up something from his bed, Harry reveals a black elastic band and shakes it on the camera, that same seductive smile never leaving his face, dimples like deep craters, things Louis would want to pour his teas in and drink them from. _Shut your brain up, tosser._

Focusing on what's happening, Louis watches the boy gather his majestic long curls to tie it up in a perfect albeit messy bun, sitting back down once he's satisfied with it. Well. He looks gorgeous like this, Louis thinks. Petite and tiny. Pretty. Fuckable, _but also, he's Louis' student_ , so. Again, fuck.

♡♡♡♡

It was a 9 minute long video. The kid got himself off with a mint green vibrator, legs and thighs spread apart with his puckered pink hole flashed on the camera, proudly so. Louis watched sex-hazed as the mint green vibrator was being pushed and pulled around the twink's tightening rim, the stuff vibrating like crazy--loudly--against him, making his chest heave obnoxiously as result.

Louis has got his cock sprung out the entire time, hard, red and angry, the head wet and sticky. He stroked himself languidly, eyes fixated on the twink fucking himself fast and slick and good, head bent, leotard long gone came the 4th minute, one hand working on puffing his nipples.

He moaned, sweetly so, and Louis at that had to shut his eyes in bliss as he basked in those melodic sounds voicing in his ears--only for his ears--pumping his thick cock faster, swifter. The twink squealed, had probably hit his prostate. _His sweet spot._

Eyes flicked back on the screen, Louis watched as the twink released the vibrator from his hole, dramatically slow, and adjusted his tutu around his waists, because, "Oops. It's slipping, sorry 'had to stop," and, _what the actual fuck was that?_ The boy sounded so wrecked, so high with sex, and that was just. _Hot._ His talking voice was hoarse--totally spent. And Louis had thought, _just like my cock, I'm so close, kitten._

Speaking of cocks, Louis pitied the boy's cock. It had been all but neglected, just resting curved against his belly, head pink and leaking of come... Louis' mouth watered just staring at it from his laptop screen, dreaming about putting it in his mouth and tasting that sweet come at the lap of his tongue, its head against the back of his throat. What an experience that would be.

Continuing with pumping his cock, the video being 7 minutes in, Louis was rewarded when the twink crawled forward and faced the camera; he saw his face clearer, saw the lipstick he was wearing that actually had glitters, the eye shadow's shades looking like a mixture of blue and lavender. He was really attractive, Harry, very obscene too... and sweet and... Louis almost came.

But he didn't yet. The twink got back to position and lined the head of his vibrator across his looking so spent hole. It looked thoroughly stretched, the rims all puckered and almost red, like the twink might be screaming from within having achieved that, feeling internal friction against his prostate, being repeatedly nudged. And Jesus. That was incredible.

"I'm almost there," the twink moaned out, vibrator in him again, switched on and reducing him into a breathless, ungodly wonder, eyes rolled at the back of his head, right as he fucked himself quick, "hope you--ah, _fuck_ \--hope you are too. Want us to... want us to...shoot our loads together, babe... Let's do this."

Three, four, five more thrusts of the twink with his vibrator in him, and Louis with his drastic pumping of his own cock too, the both of them almost shot each load at the exact same time. Almost. Because Louis might or might not have come earlier than the beautiful faunlet himself.

Not having able to see what the twink did after he recovered from his orgasm high because of the splattered come across his laptop screen, Louis deemed it didn't matter. He took off his earphones and fetched himself some tissues, heart dropping painfully to his stomach as he went. Then cleaning up after his filth, Louis left the living room altogether, wordless, thoughtless, to get to bed like nothing at all happened, mostly disappointed at himself for even watching another one of the twink's daily videos...

The twink who is his very own student, the one he'll probably be seeing tomorrow. Harry Styles.

♡♡♡♡

Louis gets in class the next day, where the majority of his students are being their usual gossipy selves once more, from what Louis so far has observed anyway, since each time he walks in this is the exact scenario he is being presented with. Some are standing and some are seated atop their armchairs, some huddled in groups--just all out the typical. He clears his throat when he's finally standing behind his desk, mentally noting Harry isn't here yet, smiling widely and wiggling his brows once they put their attentions on him. "Hey. Morning, little ones. Guess who's back."

"Good morning, Mr. Tommo!" Answers back his class enthusiastically, the three girls at the back included. Eleanor just blinks; Louis blinks back at her.

They split up like wildfire the moment Louis rubs his palms together, an indication they all probably know by now he's starting his class, going back to their sitting arrangements and pulling out their books. Louis nods his gratitude.

And the class begins.

♡♡♡♡

Just like what happened on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, Louis in the middle of discussion gets interrupted, the whole room going completely quiet, when petite Harry Styles with his head hung low, curls draped down his flushed face, and hands gripping his school bag strolls inside the room. Louis watches, holding up a textbook, chalk in between fingers, as the kid makes his way toward his chair, the boys in his class once again enticed at the scene before them.

Louis has the authority to raise an eyebrow once Harry's faced the front, a shy look on his face locking eyes with Louis. "Sorry, I'm late again, sir... Just got caught up with something." He mumbled out his words, curling in on himself as if to appear smaller, sniffing and rubbing the skin under his nose. Louis takes pity on him, thinking that maybe he's done another video or summat, seeing that gesture of telling a lie. But then of course, that brings another course of guilt through Louis' senses, especially that he's once again wanked to this boy's Thursday video no more than 14 hours ago from now. Louis should just suck it and back the fuck off the boy's agendas.

Averting his eyes away from the boy, not saying a word about that, Louis proceeds with the lesson and focuses on his other students instead, making a subtle note he's not appreciating Harry's tardiness no more.

Harry sags defeated in his seat, head slumping down and sighing. Louis sees that at the corner of his eyes.

♡♡♡♡

Everyone has gone quiet during the quiz Louis let them take, heads ducked down as they answer their test papers, ballpoints against paper sheets sounding around the room.

Louis walks along the aisle, patrolling with his hands on his back, looking over his students' papers, seeing some of their answers and the like. He snickers seeing a few that didn't even make it to 20% of being right about some certain questions, shaking his head. And to think that Louis has prepared something with multiple choice. Whatever, he'll do a graded recitation after this.

Louis proceeds patrolling.

And then he looks over to see a certain boy; he is met with the sight of him with his eyes closed, mouth parted a tiny bit, nostrils flaring as he breathes through them softly. He's sleeping.

Louis doesn't know what it is, Louis doesn't know why it even occurred but. Somehow, his heart lurched in his chest, and his breath hitched against his throat, just by seeing this... as though he's intruding over something so private. He knows Harry's antics behind closed doors, he's aware of his nature of work, so it only makes sense he'll be exhausted like this. He's a very in-demand porn star, a known one within the underground porno industry, so it's no surprise that he makes multiple videos every week...

Louis aches to see him like this, with his head almost falling, soft snores coming out of his lungs. He's so young, Harry, so fragile, so...delicate. Why he has this sort of job, Louis probably will never know. But it still makes him wonder peculiarly, nevertheless. He wishes he could talk to him about it someday though, even if--well, not that Louis is degrading Harry's job, right, because really, Louis is not against the porn industry. That's a thing people do in order to earn money. But like, Harry is beautiful, he's also so very young, _only 17_ , so Louis despite he's in no right to run the boy's life for him, hopes that he switches occupation and gain money by doing something else instead. His beauty is not worth all those boys and men paying him online, just to see him naked; his beauty is not worth all those he'd made come from every part of the world.

His beauty is not worth creeps like Louis himself, getting off to him getting off. No. Harry deserves so much better. Harry doesn't deserve the likes of Louis. Never.

Blowing air subtly, Louis turns around like he's seen nothing, like he was swallowed by oblivion, deciding not to bother to make Melissa or Cara wake Harry up to take the quiz anymore. The kid can sleep this one off. It's the one thing he deserves for now.

♡♡♡♡

"See you later, Hersh!" Calls someone. Kendall, Louis supposes.

"Yeah, I will, uhm, see you," comes Harry's voice.

Louis is sorting out his stuff over his desk, lesson plan binder being the only one left astray, not giving his homeroom some mind for he knows his kids are currently dispersing. Class is finally over for today.

As he opts to take a seat, review some of his lessons for the sake of being quite advanced for his next class this coming Monday, Louis is startled to see that some kids are still within the area when he looked up. And that includes Harry specifically, because if it's the other way around, Louis wouldn't have had his heart stuck on his mouth in an instant. Like now. _Things the kid do to reduce him into a puddle of goo._

"Mr. Styles," Louis acknowledges then, voice coming off a tad breathy. Which, pathetic. "You're still here." His eyes shift to his left where a bunch of his male students--Michael, Sam, Tristan and Alfonso--are also still lingering by the door, looking at Harry with wonderment in their eyes, just standing there, right in front of their homeroom professor. Louis ignores them, knows they're being their animal selves again toward the twink, and focuses on said twink instead.

The boy is standing a few steps away from his desk, hoods of his white converse shoes turned in to themselves like that of Japanese geisha, long legs alongside it looking marvelously grand. And freakishly demure. _As usual_ , Louis thinks briefly. He looks him up and down, willing not to seem like he's checking the boy out (because that's exactly what he's doing) but rather to perhaps appear he's stunned to see him still lingering around, considering it's been quite some time that he told the class to go home. He's being a proper teacher, alright?

As if he's read his mind, the part where Louis has advised them all to head home, Harry looks down on his hands that are clasped together in a shy manner--a thing only body language reader experts would conceivably know--dark eyelashes cascaded down and hovering delicately over his rosy cheeks, biting his plump bottom lip. Louis swallows slowly, subtly, careful not to hint he's just as shy as Harry right this minute.

Finally looking up, Harry mumbles something Louis didn't quite catch. So Louis clears his throat. "Sorry, what is it, child?" _Child. Real smooth, tosser. You just literally came into the screen of your laptop as you watched this child get himself off. So fuck you._

"Uhm," the boy starts, and Louis swears Harry seems to love that word so much, "I just wanna apologize for being always late."

Ah, and there it is. Louis nods. "Right. What was that about? If you dont mind me...asking."

Clearing his throat, Louis notices the part where Harry turns beet red in a millisecond flash. "I have a, uhm..." _That uhm again._ "I have this sort of... job you see. That I go to only in midnights, so. So I barely have proper sleep."

Heart beating erratically in his chest, Louis for one last time checks to see if there are still lingering boys at the door; they've gone. It's just him and Harry now then. Louis turns his attention back to Harry and takes a deep breath. Releases it. "I see," he murmurs.

"Yeah, uhm." _Will he say more? Admit what he does for a living?_

The answer is no. Harry just blinks down, fingers fidgety, always lip-biting and lip-chewing. Louis needs him to cut that habit now, otherwise he'll form a fucking semi.

Letting out a sigh, Louis does his best to act matured, to act like a real _professor_ that he is. "Okay then, Mr. Styles, I understand. But you got to step up your game, lad. Tardiness is a red flag, you ought to know that."

"I--I know, sir. But it cant be helped though, so I'm sorry. I need this job I have at the moment, see... It's the only source of my income at the moment, and that says a lot because I'm just a kid and I already pay for my own bills, not to mention my own tuition. Saint Bridget is quite a handful, posh school and all..." He sighs, frowning now, eyebrows furrowing. "Mum and dad are... gone. I used to live with my Nan, but now I've decided to take care of myself to avoid being a burden, so... that's that."

And oh. "Oh." Louis can feel his throat closing, feeling so much affection and sympathy for the boy. He wants to so bad wrap him up in a hug, or like, maybe in a warm, comfy blanket, sit him down in a plush sofa, and serve him steaming hot tea with hints of cinnamon, cuddle him up and take good care of him. And what the flying fuck is he thinking right now? _Focus on the presented matter, Tomlinson!_

Running a hand through his luscious curls, Harry blinks at Louis in a hazy way and god, does he look so childlike and pretty like this. Such faunlet. How is Louis even letting up? The boy opens his big mouth again to say something; that mouth that Louis wants to do so many things with. _Okay, just. Fuck. Creep. One second he's thinking about being a potential father to the boy, and now he's just being an arse and plain pedophilic. Fuck you and your bipolar marvelling, Louis._

The boy blows out a sigh, pulling Louis back to reality. "Ah, but I really want to apologise though, Mr. Tomlinson," he is saying. "Like, sincerely. If it's okay with you, I'd like to ask you out for...some coffees, perhaps?"

And, what? Louis refrains to choke. "What?"

Louis watches as Harry licks his lips, wetting them and turning their natural pink colour into a magenta one. "Coffees, sir."

 _Again, what?_ "Coffees?"

"Yes," answers Harry firmly, casually. _Casually_. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his trousers now, his eyes directed at Louis, a passive smile painting his lips. And, where has the shy kid just now had gone to? What's happening?

Louis looks at him as though he's grown a new pair of head, because like--because he's looking so chill, so relaxed. Like he's not just asked one of his professors out, like that's the most normal thing in the world these days. Well, not that Louis is saying that this is a date Harry is implying, because he's sure it's not. That Harry's just asking him out for coffees because he wants to make up for the tardiness he's been showing ever since, in regards to his school records, but. Really?

"Uh..." Louis is lost for words, adjusting the glasses perched on his nose.

Harry tacks on, however, as if he wouldn't take no for an answer, still appearing so casual as fuck, levering himself up with the balls of his feet. "So, like... after school, sir? What time is your out?" He's smiling loosely now, dimples in display.

_Shit, those things are like, Louis' weaknesses. Also, he's really, seriously doing this?_

Louis checks the time, obligated to, sweats already forming at the top of his forehead as he does so. He's partly thankful his fringe is down today, really, else Harry will _know_. "In a while."

Beaming all the sudden, like some light bulb inside him had been switched on, Harry nods enthusiastically at Louis, catching Louis rather...off-guard. "Awesome. I'll wait on you then. I can just sit here and like, not bother you with your..." He trails off, gesturing with his hands as he sits his bum on a chair a couple of steps away from Louis' desk. "Your whole revising thing," He finishes then, grinning. And, Louis blinks at him, stunned.

Harry does the same, only that the difference is this kid's batting his lashes, deep dimples still there on either sides of his pretty face, being a perfect replica of Princess Ariel the Little Mermaid herself, the part where she's first transformed into a human and had legs, always ecstatic and grinning and enthusiastic, albeit speechless. It's...well, adorable. Very admirable. This wonderboy is. Louis is feeling butterflies fluttering wildly in his stupid belly.

_Stupid fucking feelings._

"Okay, Mr. Styles," Louis hears himself mutter out, gripping his Montblanc pen mindlessly.

A beat, Harry speaks again. And it causes Louis' heart to skip a beat, just because he's that weak. "This is your only class, no?"

"Yes. This is my only class."

He breaks into a wicked grin, the 17 year-old young boy. And Louis has to contain himself from reaching under the table just to press his forming semi down, because that--that is the same wicked smile he pulls that Louis sees nightly in his camboy videos, even dreaming about it sometimes... Jesus. "Well, great!"

_Yeah, Harry, great. Just fucking great._

♡♡♡♡

Harry leads the way to the coffee shop--the same coffee shop where they first met, specifically--that one place where Louis loathed the tea. **_English Caffeine_**. Louis reckons it's _the_ coffee shop around here, for the students of Saint Bridget's Academy, almost everyone's usual spot. Louis before even getting there hoped that none of the kids or prosecutors who would see him with a student of his having coffees would view him and Harry as something more than platonic. Because that is, like, such a massive trouble in itself just waiting to happen...

During the walk to English Caffeine, Louis and Harry who walked side by side, didn't talk much but rather just felt one another's presence next to them, their distance as they made their way to said shop leaning more towards just a generous amount. Scattered students around the campus where they'd walked through gave them skeptic looks and double once-overs, making Louis hot in the ears, and Harry beside him to look down on the ground. Louis almost backed out.

Just almost. Because now they're finally here, they made it, and while he's sitting on their chosen spot inside the shop, which is by the glass window, Harry is at the counter, ordering them their coffees. Louis watches on, quite fidgety, whirling mind hoping and praying no witnesses would think maliciously of him and Harry being here right now, alone together.

Harry by the counter is still talking to someone in charge, hand gesturing in the air animatedly as usual (why is he like that? It's adorable, Louis wishes he would stop), lips moving slow, the normally slow talker that he is. Louis blows the breath he hasn't noticed he's been holding, shuddering internally, eyes racking the teenager's body.

He's petite, Harry, torso looking endless and the small of his back slim, curving as Louis racks his eyes on his frame even lower, lower, and until his focus is on the boy's bum at last.

It's cute like that, his arse--cloaked by his school trousers--looking quite soft and a bit meaty. _Good lad, nice little body_... Louis bites his lip, hard, and then upon catching himself ogling his _fucking student's bum in a public area_ , Louis immediately snaps out of it. He whips his head from left to right, sighing in relief when he sees that no one saw him do just that.

He looks upfront again just in time to see Harry walking back towards their table, tray in hand complete with mugs and, what is that? Louis sniffs in. Scones.

"Sorry, took so long," Harry says, setting the tray down on their table. He sits across Louis, ruffling his curly fringe and then sweeping it to the side. Louis has to tear his eyes off that hastily, putting his attention to their food instead, before he thinks about just surging forwards and letting their lips meet. Jeez.

"That's fine, lad."

Picking up his own coffee, Harry opts to take a sip from it, and Louis observes the way he sticks his tongue out first from his parted lips, meeting the marble mug halfway. And...Louis finds that mesmerizing, surprisingly so even to himself, instead of perhaps, obscene. Just like what he describes the boy typically, especially if we're talking tongues and blowjob mouths.

Okay so, Louis is acting weird.

"So," Harry begins, putting down his mug and grabbing a scone to himself. Louis makes a show of he's all ears. "I'm... I wanna start again with an apology. I am really, dearly sorry for my tardiness, professor, again. I just--this job I have is very important to me." _Camboying is important to him?_ Louis thinks, admittedly a bit disappointed if that's the case. "Well, the pay I get anyway...is important to me." _Oh, that. Well, okay. Good_. "It's where I get my daily allowance and everything else, sir. I get to pay my bills because of it, and also, my tuition fee. I want to finish school soon, rather than late... because my sister said she'll offer me a job someplace else where I can really build my own career, and not to be stuck in doing... well, uhm. Doing what I do at the moment." He shrugs after his little ramble, mumbling at the last few words. Louis hums his understanding in every word let out.

"I guess I'll let it slide then," Louis eventually tells him, biting on his own scone while he stirs his coffee. "After all, I appreciate that you're opening up to me like this," he says between chews. "You know, I've been a teacher me'self, for quite my entire life ever since I started my own career and, I must say you're one of the only five to seven students of mine throughout my journey who actually went out their way just to confront me so sincerely like this. Regarding their standings in school, at least." Louis gives the boy a smile. "So I'm grateful for such gesture and also, your honesty."

Eyes wide and ever so green, Harry lights up and suddenly he's beaming again, dimple-smiling as he looks down on his drink, some of his curls bouncing along with his movement. Louis is enthralled by that, so, so endeared. He should snap out of it. "Thank you, Mr. Tomlinson...so much. For understanding."

Louis sighs, smiling. "No problem. Just. Always vent to me if needed be, yeah? I'll always be lending both my ears."

"And your time?" Comes Harry's immediate reply, voice all the sudden small. Louis almost didn't catch it.

"Yeah. As well as my time."

Harry peers up over his dark, thick lashes, wordless, mouth curved into a sly smile.

"A-anyway," Louis clears his throat, won't let the kid know just how affected he is by _that_ look. "You said you have a sister."

At the question thrown, Harry blinks rapidly and breathes through his nose, as though letting go of thoughts himself. Which, interesting...

The boy shrugs at last. "Yes. Uhm, her name's Gemma. She's currently in London, living with my Nan."

Louis nods. "I see."

After a while, Louis feels the boy shifting in his seat, leaning forward a little. He looks up to lock gazes with him. "Well, aren't you even gonna ask me what this job I'm doing, sir?"

And, what? _Is he really going to tell? But, why?_ If Louis didn't know about his job, he might've said yes to that. But alas, he knows, so there is no way...

But then Harry's putting his hands on the table all the sudden though, now, where Louis' hands have been for quite some time now, and--and Louis can see his long, dainty fingers trailing slowly toward Louis' owns, like he's not even being subtle about it, and. Wait a minute. _What is going on here?_ Is Harry hitting on him? Flirting? But that's highly unlikely, isn't it? Not because they're practically forbidden because he's his teacher, and Harry is his student, but. Thing is, Harry could have anything in the world. He doesn't want _Louis_. He wouldn't flirt with _Louis._

So Louis must just be imagining things. Right.

Redeeming his hands off the table, making a mental note of how the boy's eyebrows knotted together at that particular move, Louis puts them over his lap, shaking his head with a sly laugh. "Nah, it's okay, Mr. Styles. I don't have to know." The boy slumps back against his seat, shoulders blatantly sagging like he didn't get what he wanted. Louis carries on, "This is me giving you your privacy. Besides, Mr. Styles, I'm sure your job is something--"

"Harry," the boy suddenly interrupts, voice not-so-enthusiastic anymore than just a few moments ago, but is rather restrained and sounding deflated now.

"Pardon?"

"Just call me Harry, professor."

"Oh...okay," Louis says slowly, hesitating, looking at Harry warily. He sees that the boy looks about just done now, staring back at Louis, not drinking his coffee, not even touching his scones anymore either. Well. Louis will not, definitely won't assume, that it was in fact because of him just now, not giving the boy a chance and indicated he isn't flirting back--that the part where he snatched his hands off the table was being him, doing what he thought was the sensible thing to do. That instead of encouraging some potential impending hand-holding that could've happened, he chose to be the reasonable one. Gathering all fake optimism, Louis sighs loudly, says, "I'll start calling you just Harry then." Harry clicks his tongue, nodding wordlessly, clearly still biased. So Louis tacks on, "Only if you promise you'll call me _just_ Louis too though, when we're out of the school's facilities."

Amazingly, like he's the human embodiment of Christmas itself, Harry in seconds flat is back to beaming again, alarmingly, leaning forward and grabbing on his mug with both hands. Louis feels fireworks exploding in his tummy just by being slapped across the face with the sight of that, and--fuck. _Shit_. He may be in way over his head already for this boy; like, he feels so much for the boy. This is _not_ good.

"Deal!" Harry chirps. And there goes Louis' stomach dropping forty feet on the ground.

About to respond to the boy, some noise of tapping against glass keeps Louis from doing so as he jumps. He and Harry both turn their heads to see who did it.

Just his luck. Louis is inwardly shocked as he sees it's Cara, standing outside the shop with Kendall, Eleanor and Melissa. They're all looking at him and Harry, four pairs of eyes averting from Harry and then to him. Blood rises to the top of his head.

Cara is saying something, mouth wide and articulating, only Louis doesn't know what--he's no lip reader--can't also hear, since the fiberglass is quite the thick kind, so looking back at Harry in front of him, Louis wills himself to nod, tells the kid, "This has been a great treat, Harry. Thank you. I believe we should go."

Mouth opening, and then closing, opening again without any syllables coming out of it, Louis animatedly watches as the boy flicks his gaze back and forth from the girls to Louis, obviously torn between going and staying for a few more minutes. Louis has the decency to put an end to Harry's pain because of that, just does the initiative to move, standing up himself. Harry ends up pouting from across him, still sat. "This is nothing, Lou," Harry mutters then as he stands up, picking up his knapsack. Louis' ears belatedly perk up after realizing the boy called him Lou, heart growing ten times big. _Because that sounded nice when it was him who said it_. "I had fun myself, and I got to explain my odd behaviour properly, so I should thank you."

Agreeing absently, Louis nods at the boy, slinging his messenger bag. They look at each other. "Laters, Harry."

Harry bites his lip. Louis makes a face at him, wiggling his brows. The boy as a result breaks into a grin, cheeks turning pink, fine dimples once again in display. "Yep. Laters, Lou."

♡♡♡♡

That night that Louis goes home, he feeds his cats and cuddles with them in bed, strips off bare but doesn't watch Harry's Friday video. Instead he thinks about all the information he's gathered about him and sympathizes for the better part of his relaxation. How it might've been hard for Harry to decide on being a camboy just because he'd been so desperate for money and it was the one thing he knew would get him through life, and also for the hopes of finishing school using the dimes he gets out of it, so that finally he can start his real and much, much better career in the future.

Louis never thought this is the life of the twink he'd been so fond of. Difficult and sad. Lacking of family, the most important people one can have in life.

Louis can only imagine how that must be making Harry feel. Now out the sudden he wants to protect Harry at all costs. Only if he could though, because he knows he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's still louis' birthday in my country ahuhuh :) he's 24!!! i'm feeling the daddy louis baby harry feels!!!!! aahhh <3 pls comment what u think, etc :) thank u for being patient! xx


	5. oooh, you're so cold as ice, baby, i don't want to fight, baby ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now, you're about to enter the twink's mind. brace yourselves for some camboying agendas and what harry really feels about executing it. also, let's see how much he truly fangirls about his hot af professor ;)

Days have passed in a blur, weather and temperature alike, streets filled and swept off fallen orange leaves like Pocahontas--rainy days passing briefly. Weekends passed quicker than one can say I love you, nights alone at home spent mostly to discovering himself some more, what he hasn't realized that turns out he can do, and letting Eleanor crash some nights she goes her way and gets smashed, mostly for beating herself up, and before he knows it, days have eventually converted into weeks, yet alas he still hasn't gone round to executing this operation he's set up ages ago. Ages ago when he first met Mr. Tomlinson.

Oh, the dreamy old man. Something Harry has never tried before, despite of what...he is. Surely, Harry knows that by being a camboy, men and boys (or heck, even women and girls) of all ages will get the access to watching him go subby all the way in his videos--that they will see his body, his naked glory... his orgasm face. So chances are, hypothetically speaking, Harry has tried old men. The likes of Louis Tomlinson; the whole scruffy look going on, the beard, the veiny wrists... the hair chest. And also, how will Harry ever forget? Those tattoos he has. Yes, he's seen them, despite Louis never told outright. It was the time they had that coffee date, Louis might or might not have had a minor slip up. When they almost _held hands_ over the table (why did Louis retrieve his hands that time anyway? Harry's still upset about that!) Harry saw slivers of ink along his right arm, some sort of cards thing? Like heart and spade, circling his dainty wrist, making him seem a hundred times edible. Because like, if Mr. Tommo isn't the hottest adult Harry's ever seen, then he doesn't know what.

But that's not all that Louis is. He's also sweet...and kind. And not only that Louis has the bluest eyes that Harry would want to swim in for only forever, he also has the loveliest, husky voice. Throaty and high-pitched, music in Harry's ears... He can't even perk up higher just whenever the old man is calling his name in class, because that--that angelic voice speaking his name is just. Heaven. Revolutionary.

Harry fancies his teacher so bad. So _hard._

Harry is so hard for him. Always hard around him. Fuck.

But like, Harry likes to think that this is way different than anything though; that this can be not just a one-night stand thing, but rather a thing that has actual potentials in the long term department. That this could be more than just some fling, some high school puppy love in some romcom film. If Harry can only sweep the old man off his feet though, then that would make everything he has in mind realities.

Louis Tomlinson is... well, for one he's so manly, so fierce, so handsome and rugged. In another aspect, he's smart, brilliant, and _funny_. Kinda all the reasons why he's every girl's conquest in school as of late, even a couple of boys--like Harry himself--and some of the teachers from other years. Yep, Harry pretty much knows his way around here; knows what gossip goes, and who or when or where, the lot. Also, Louis is someone who's nice, most especially Harry's already seen that, seen through the man and... and... well, as ridiculous as it may sound but. Harry thinks he might've fallen quite already.

Or, he could be. Perhaps.

_Louis W. Tomlinson and a couple of hearts ♥♥♥ scribbled in red ink_ , what Harry's written in his Biology notebook. How he wishes it's always just the English subject for him though, so he can perhaps forever ogle Mr. Tommo's arse. That marvelous, fine pair. Harry sighs. The teacher won't even look at him in a non-platonic way. Every time he would make it quite blatant he likes Louis, batting his lashes at him, the man would just... shrug him off and proceed with the lessons. And every time Harry would drop hints he most definitely would date Louis because they'd just have so much fun in the long run (this had been one of Louis' questions during class, for some high school cliché), Louis had only laughed and declared it silly. _You silly ole boy, Mr. Styles_ , his exact words that certain day. Which, embarrassing. Fucking embarrassing. It had Eleanor go all, "I told you so." Kendall, "Just give it up, babe." Melissa, "I'm sorry, love." And Cara, "Don't worry, we'll try next time. We'll 'ave him drunk to confess his feelings for you!"

It's frustrating Harry--it riles him up, makes him horny--and each time it does, being not the saint that everyone would deem him, he would see the first available boy by the hallways who 'craves' him and would make out with them by the toilets, let that boy touch him anywhere they please because he _needs_ , make him kneel on the floor and let this boy fuck his throat. And each time... each time Harry would be picturing it was Mr. Louis Tomlinson. He's gone for him, it's crazy.

And brand new.

On a lighter note, Louis seems to be enjoying teaching them now, Harry can tell by the way he'd stay longer than necessary, by the way he would call them certain names--he and his classmates. On Eleanor for example: he calls her the Starbucks Queen when it's recitation day, conceivably because Louis always catches her whenever she comes in, smelling of either Java Chip or Mocha Frappe of some sorts. With Melly, it's the Angelina Jolie Lips Challenge. Harry has memorized his best mate to take so much selfies with her lips pouting rather obnoxiously, so maybe that's why. Louis always catches the girl taking pictures with her phone during class after all. Luckily enough for her, the teacher doesn't do confiscation.

One of his classmates named Terrence has always got the Class Clown title, which is understandable, seeing as he makes their teacher laugh just by existing; Cara and Kendall are the rabbits of the classroom, because of reasons, and Harry... Harry is the 'Lamb of God'. Louis, apparently, finds it funny that Harry is the kind to trip on his own two feet, is lanky and _petite_ , and also, has got youthful and angelic features, Louis once said, with the curly locks and dimples and big eyes. So there's that. Does the teacher find him the least bit attractive? Harry has no clue, but alas, he's just become more hopeful with his chances on the old man. Chances of blowing him, of kissing him, of being...devirginized by him. Harry has never had the _real_ thing in his arse, is the thing. Toys have always had their way up it, but that had been it. So, like, there is also that.

Another thing though is that he and Louis are becoming quite close now, especially when he always comes in late and Louis would just nod, because he knows what's up. Harry still hasn't mastered taking the hints of makeup off his face, which he thinks has Louis quizzical all the time, but other than that he gets off the hook. Louis, of course, shows him from time to time how he should at least consider waking up early, giving him the look. But again, since he knows about Harry's 'job', he lets him slide all the time. And that brings to Harry always coming up to him personally to apologize--and also to be able to communicate. It's been weeks now since that coffee they had, and Harry from this point is still thinking of a way to be closer, like more than friendly but less than lovers kind of closer, to his teacher. He thinks it'll take a bit of time; Louis seems one sensible fine piece of meat after all.

♡♡♡♡

Switching all the lights off in his bedroom to start with this nightly routine he's got in the works for him when it's the weekdays, Harry leaves one on as per usual which is his bedside lamp--the flame bubbles one he's bought not too many days ago, creating colorful hues around the area--mostly around the camera's range--accentuating the dimness of his pastel pink walls, meaning more dramatic touch to his pending Tuesday video.

Going toward his study desk, Harry in his green silk robe, all bare and freshly waxed underneath it, faces all the picture frames aligning the platform down (his mum, his dad, his sister and his nan smiling for the camera--for him), not wanting for himself to see their faces once he eventually gets too intimate with his _work_ , once he gets high up in subspace, preventing the inevitable mishaps his mind might just get throughout his sinful shenanigans.

He's going to forget the life he lives, going to separate himself from the most certainly fabricated life he's found himself in, all just by doing that. The scrumptious alternative universe where he's the innocent little Hazza, making people--his family and new faces--giggly and drunk-in-love with his cuteness and, ironically so, purity. He's gonna step out of that heavily manipulated idea within his subconscious as well as for the rest who got none an idea he does this, camboying for money, and get up on the other side of himself. Be the sinner, not the saint; be the sinful, not the squeaky cleansed of sins boy.

Harry stays still as he feels the coiling in his guts, just marvelling on that.

Ten scented candles, the AC running, and then a bit of few strokes through his nightly yoga routine later, Harry looks around his room finally and decides he's all set for his camcording for this video he'll be uploading tomorrow. He heads to his camera then that is already set on his tripod, and presses the play button after he's breathed in and out, chanting in his head, _for the sake of my future._

He pads back toward his bed and sits beneath the mattress, right at the center of it. He bites his lip, closing his eyes and gathering all self-restraint just to toss them off a window--this won't be included to the video he'll be airing once he edits it--and then... well, the show begins from there.

It needs to.

"Hello, lovelies," he forces himself to say, as low and as deep and as sounding seductive as he can, as a form of greeting to his alleged random viewers for the night after this, pulling off that wicked slight smirk, that trademarked kind of smile he's reserved for this. He inhales subtly, heart pounding madly in his chest. "So... tonight I'll be fingering myself open, like, until I can't see straight anymore... head'll be in space, something like that." The corners of his lips curve up, pained internally as he adds, "Just for you." _Just for who? Random horny fucks over the internet Harry doesn't even give a flying shit about? Like, whether they come or not? Yeah, right._

He blows the camera a kiss, fluttering his eyelashes ridiculously for show--something he fucking hates, loathes, something that's giving even himself the creeps about his way of camboying, because fuck it that isn't the most disgusting gesture. He's such a whore if you come to think of it and, fuck. Why he has the need to be so flirt-wise obnoxious like this, will always be beyond him. But he supposes his viewers likes him like that, likes him slutty and twinky and whore-ish, like, if him having so much tips lately is any given indication to that theory anyway, one of the main reasons why he's been crowned one of the most subscribed twinks in the porn industry to begin with. Good thing his mum and dad weren't here anymore to be disappointed in him, as fucked up as that sounds coming from inside his head. It takes all of him to do this, takes all of his sanity and will... every fibre and innocence.

_For the sake of your future, Harry_ , he reminds himself again.

Reaching out for the lube under the bed, and the newest dildo he's got from a co-camboy at paypercome.com, the teal colored one with a wavy structure--one that would definitely make him come twice in a row, probably, because of its curvy shape that is bound to nudge all angles within his arsehole--Harry redeems himself up and once again pulls the languid smile for the camera, sweeping his curly fringe off his face with his fingers. "See this baby?" He wiggles the sex toy toward the camera, "Isn't she just cute? I'll be inserting this in me, you're gonna witness my thoroughly fucked face, and then I will spurt come over my belly twice. Why twice? Because," he pauses, tries not to cringe at himself, and then he proceeds, " _Because_ , I've got quite loads of tips from y'all last week. Therefore, I'll be rewarding you."

Getting into position, Harry firstly unties the strings of his green silk robe and shrugs it off of him, cold air clinging to his naked skin instantly. He shivers a little, but makes sure his future viewers won't notice it. His paper airplane necklace stays around his neck as he tosses the robe on the floor, serving as leverage for him to come back from subspace later, the item being a gift from his sister. It's what she gave him some Christmases ago.

He breathes in. Out. _Okay, he's got to start this once and for all._

As per usual, Harry coats his fingers with some lube, reaching in between his spread cheeks and then teasing his hole, fingertips circling the rosy rims as the hole itself puffs inner body air, getting his mind and soul and sex atoms purely into it--into this particular shit he's about to do. In order to get sex-hazy, Harry thinks about all the porn he's watched from the past, back when he was 15 and curious, thinks about two random boys fucking and squirming, twinks sucking some old Daddies' veiny angry cocks, thinks about...

Oh, fuck, yes. _Of fucking course._

Harry thinks about Louis. He thinks about the old man bending him over a table, his table inside Saint Bridget's Academy's faculty room, when there's no one around, spanking him for always coming in late, whispering calmly, yet darkly, some filthy words in his ear, teeth and bottom lip brushing against it, making Harry shudder visibly. _Gonna punish you for being so tardy, baby._

Harry thinks about Mr. Louis Tomlinson ripping his pants off and letting his own cock spring up in between them--getting cold and harder and _exposed_ \--imagines Louis kneeling before him and commanding him to _not come until he says so_ , putting his throbbing pink-headed cock in his pretty, quick-witted smart mouth, thin pink lips wrapping around it, jaws clenching. _So big and hard for professor, hmm, lamb of God? My sweet Disney's Bambi._

Harry starts moaning now, fingering himself open, rough and steadily fast, stretching his hole, stretching, stretching...has no mercy with his own asshole. Biting his cheek hard to keep from screaming, Harry thinks about Louis again--the image of him about done gagging on his dick now, standing up, grabbing Harry by the back of his head and tangling his fingers through his curls--and then he _pulls._ Hard. Harshly. Harry groans, cheeks all heated up and numbing with flush. He adds the third finger that he's promised to his generous tippers then, penetrating his prostate and hole altogether.

His chest keeps heaving up and down, arsehole overwhelmed, still, even after all this time, heart and mind and body heavy with the feeling, dick twitching harshly over his belly, already leaking of pre-come.

Harry shuts his eyes, reaching for the dildo and then releasing his fingers from his mid-spent hole, eliciting a soft whine to himself. "Come with... with me again, yeah?" He murmurs, not bothering to look at the camera, mind focused with the thought of what Louis must look like when he fucks someone like Harry instead, always tight at first prep, warm and very much virgin. _So tight for me baby, I like that. Love this warm hole._

Imagining Louis fucking him now, strong hands pinning him down on the desk at school, pounding hard into him and cursing lowly, thrusting quickly and hardly, thick cock sliding in and out his tight, hot hole, Harry pushes the sex toy eagerly instead of gingerly inside him, imagines some more it is in fact Louis' own length too--pulling out, pushing in, pulling out, pushing in, twisting and then reaching for his prostate. Harry is nearly sobbing now, head thrown back and is propped up beneath the pillows, biting his lip so hard he's afraid he'll taste metal later, loving the intensity his throbbing neglected cock is feeling, as well as the multiple angles the wavy, curvy dildo is giving his spent hole.

"Wow, fuck," Harry lets out all the while, hissing brokenly. "This is... oh God." Thing is, Harry can't believe he's actually enjoying this right now, as it happens. Like, what's the hype? What's made this enjoyable than the other times he's done this?

Harry continues to thrust the dildo in and out of him, adjusting to the burn until it fades, feeling the head of his cock about shooting quite already. It's gone so heavy, so fucking full, so--

\--and the scruffy, fierce look Louis has given him on multiple occasions at school suddenly flashes in Harry's mind, smouldering him, the arousing affect it has in him going straight to his dick.

" _Ah_ ," he moans out just in time as he squirts, sticky white semen splattered over his stomach, some on his spread out thighs, and then some on his chest and nipples. Harry breathes, eyes snapping widely open as realization hits him.

_It's Louis._ Of course it's Mr. Louis Tomlinson. He's mentally ruined him. Just with the thoughts of him fucking Harry senseless, bent over a school faculty table, inside that area where anytime someone could walk in on them being rabbits, while his arse cheeks had been red and swollen by being spanked. Harry's got the answer to his questions just now. Fuck.

Scrambling up to his knees, legs wobbly as all-heck, Harry faces the camera and urges himself to come down to his high for a second. It doesn't happen. He proceeds nonetheless. "So. Still can keep up with me, love? Time for round two. Need you to come with me again, yeah?" He winks at the camera, curly hair a mop atop his head for sure. He sighs inwardly. "Okay, here we go."

Round two begins. Harry tries to focus on the sweet, calming scent the candles in his shelves are producing throughout it, focuses on the rhythm of his thrusts, and of course, the image of his professor fucking his throat and thighs this second time around.

And, heaven. Been such a heaven fuckfest from that point on. Harry enjoyed it. Which had Harry thinking: he probably should think of Louis Tomlinson each time he records now, might just get the job done way more seamless. Right.

♡♡♡♡

Harry walks out his room just as he's done with video recording, covering his cock as he goes, shivering as he's bare from head to toe, still high with his second orgasm and flushed all over. His thighs to his dick are all blooming red, his throat and cheeks rosy, and of course, his stretched wet of lubricant hole. It's obscene and it's filthy--he is--and all he wants now is to clean himself up, wash away the dirt all over his body.

But then he turns though, and there he hears some loud lip smacking and wet noises of tongue slurps, and Harry knows. His best mates are here, have arrived without even giving him some sort of warning. He turns to go to the living area.

Sprawled on his sofa is Cara with her thighs apart, Kendall slumped on top of her, practically eating her face up. Harry sighs at this, thinks that they've probably been making out for quite a _long_ while now, seeing the position they're in. Dry-humping. Harry clears his throat, despite he didn't want to be rude. "Good evening to you, two rabbits."

At that, Kendall jumps, looking like a deer caught in headlights for how wide her eyes have gone, saliva across her chin and snout, almost having a whiplash for how fast she turns her head to look directly at the intruder which is a naked Harry from the doorway. "Oh, shit," she swears, quite breathless. Which, eww.

"Hazza," Cara breathes out, looking at Harry with such a widely perfect grin, delighted as fuck as ever, chest heaving frantically. "Lookin' smoking, baby," she adds, once she notices the state Harry's in, making Harry snort and roll his eyes playfully. She makes to sit, pushing Kendall up along with her as she does so, the two of them finger-combing their dishevelled long hairs.

Not needing to ask since when they've been here, Harry just motions for going to the kitchen. "Hold on, I'll just--go get us some sodas--"

" _Sodas_ ," Kendall mimics mockingly, making Cara snicker next to her.

Harry pouts, brows furrowing. " _Hey_ ," he drawls, affronted, "I'm sorry I'm not yet legal for beers, yeah? You old hag."

Kendall laughs heartily, flipping him off. "Fuck you, H."

"No, thanks," counters Harry back as he sashays away toward his kitchen, "you won't make me come anyway, considering you're not--" _Louis Tomlinson_ , he almost says, "--someone who's got a massive dick." Cara's laughter booms loudly at hearing that, her voice heard all over the flat, that husky lilting tone heard by Harry even as he's stood in front of the fridge.

"Kendall said she'll use a strap on you, Haz!"

"Tell your girlfriend not a chance in hell!"

Cara laughs some more, Kendall following soon after.

Coming back with three cans of Dr. Pepper later, Harry doesn't bother covering his limped cock anymore in front of his lesbian friends, and just tosses each can to them, excusing himself after as he tells them he'll just shower and cover himself up with something.

Something that is his favourite lilac jumper for a top, and then his overused black skin tight boxers for a bottom. He joins the girls by the living room and settles on the single couch, popping open his Dr. Pepper as he ruffles his wet curls.

"So, Hazza baby, what's the situation? Why'd you invite us?" Cara asks, conversational for starters, taking Kendall by the waists and scooting closer.

Harry sets down his can of beverage and looks at his friends, both wide-eyed and curious. It's Kendall who realizes the matter at hand first. "Oh," she gasps. "This is about Mr. Tommo, isn't it?"

And that is Harry's cue to sigh, running a hand through his fringe that's blocking his eyes. "Yes, babe, it is. I--," he pauses, biting his lip. "I really like the guy. So like, a bit of push would do, I guess? Help a friend."

"Help you," Cara says, all serious now and leaning forward, "how?"

_Yeah, how?_

"Well," Harry exhales, shrugging, "that's the reason I invited you both over, actually. Because I don't-- I don't know either, and I need us to like... hatch a plan or something."

"A plan..." Kendall murmurs, biting her lip.

Harry nods. "Please, girls, I desperately need your help. I need to steal his heart."

Cara grins. "A plan to steal Mr. Tomlinson's heart. Sounds explicit."

Harry's heartbeats race. He thinks explicit is an understatement, despite he hasn't an idea yet of how he must do that exactly.

Humming, Kendall leans against Cara and from there starts playing with her girlfriend's hands around her waists. "But why only the two of us? How about Melly? El?"

"Melly's ran some errands. Dunno where, and--," Harry sighs, "--and El's kinda upset right now. Hasn't she told you lot? She's been crashing here lately, drunk. 'Had to clean up her bile whenever she throws up in my sink..."

"Oh, shoot," Cara gasps, frowning in concern. "By chance is it about..."

And Harry doesn't need to hear it outright; he already knows, is very much aware. "Yeah," he just mutters sadly, swallowing thickly. "She hates the job. She wants to quit but couldn't."

"Fuck..." Kendall mumbles, looking down on her lap.

Thing is, Eleanor also camgirls--same as Harry and as any person out there doing porn videos for money--all because just like Harry, she also needs the dimes, the pay it gives. Both she and Harry have got the same goal, and that is a better future after they graduate. Harry has always felt strongly for his eldest best friend within their bunch, but being the distant, brave girl Eleanor is, putting the tough act all the damn time, it's hard for Harry to make her cave in. Harry won't give up on her though, he's willing to 'save' her somehow.

"Nothing we can do, though, is there? El has chosen this life for herself, and..." Cara suddenly says pulling Harry back to reality, trailing off, head leaning back against the headrest and gaze locking with the ceiling.

Harry, frowning, finishes for her, "And no matter how many times we've suggested she switched jobs, she wouldn't budge a fraction."

"Yeah."

They sigh. And it's with Harry's tone of urgency that they eventually begin hatching a plan. Operation: Steal Mr. Louis Tomlinson's Heart.

♡♡♡♡

Harry comes in late again the next day, tired as hell. His insomnia needs to go away if he wants his teacher having him on his doggy style position and fucking him good before the school year comes to an end.

♡♡♡♡

He takes his break later with the girls, the five of them sprawled over the grass under an acacia tree within the school's premises, enjoying the morning air breeze as they munch on some puddings and bags of crisps, with some grapefruit drinks to go with those.

Harry's got his head lying on top of Melissa's lap as she sits relaxed, back against the tree trunk, humming some sort of melody under her nose.

"Do you think he's married?" Kendall suddenly asks from Harry's right, voice sounding genuinely curious, making him perk up just a bit, not really in his best mood to move--only that his senses caught up in a haste it's Mr. Tommo she's asking about.

"I don't think so," he says then. When he also senses Eleanor is about to retort, Harry immediately adds, "I've seen his hands and fingers up close. No rings."

Melissa beneath him hums knowingly, smirking, and Harry has to look up to her and grin cheekily back.

As they lounge about, peacefully for that matter, suddenly there are murmurings that reached their little camping group's vicinity, Melissa's head and the rest all turning, causing Harry to also bolt right up to look, just to see what the commotion is about, his heart pounding madly in his chest because--just as he thought. He instantly sighs dreamily, biting his lip in such an exhilarating agony.

Agony, because right there, right at the ground floor area along the corridors, is the one and only Mr. Louis Tomlinson walking, Harry's dream guy and conquest, Harry's _crush_ , Harry's fantasy...

The man Harry _can't_ reach, strolling smoothly with his chin held up, eyes pointed forwards where he's heading, glasses... _oh_. His glasses are _absent_ atop his nose now, giving Harry more access to his beautiful face. And, fuck. Just. Harry may have trouble breathing?

"Quick, Melly," he hisses, vigorously nudging his friend beside him, eyes not leaving the sight of his sexy as fuck-all professor, "slap me. _Slap me._ " The slap never comes. He turns to her, pleading, "Slap--"

And he gasps loudly as he gets what he's asked for. Not from Melissa though, but from _Eleanor_ herself. "Happy?" She calmly asks, passive aggressive smile plastered on, one perfectly trimmed eyebrow raised. Melissa, Kendall and Cara behind her look at the exchange with concerned looks etched across their faces.

"E-ecstatic," Harry in the end squeaks, nodding while cupping his cheek, mouth agape, and wide-eyed staring up at her.

Eleanor beams. "Good!"

♡♡♡♡

Harry finds himself inside the gents toilets minutes later, furiously wanking in one of the cubicles to the image of Mr. Louis Tomlinson just now, eyes shut tight and free hand clasping the door handle gravely, lip-biting, cheeks and ears all hot. Harry, the pathetic kid he is, is once again getting off and fucking his fist to the idea of his professor licking all over him, murmuring sweet nothings to his ear with that husky voice of him, piercing blue eyes only directed at his ruined self.

Harry all but wants to release steam, the frustration he's had just by seeing the old man without his fucking glasses just now eating at him. _Because Jesus Christ, Louis is just so fucking hot that Harry has the need to do this. Run for the bathrooms as he can't breathe. Not until he gets his hand on his dick. Ungh._

Finished coming, shooting his load over the toilet bowl itself, Harry flushes everything down with his numbing foot, and steps out of the cubicle looking quite...dazed. He sees himself on the bathroom mirror attached to the sinks before him, his reflection blinking back at him, and he thinks _damn, Louis did this to him_. Seems like lately he's become the muse of Harry's dreams; that he's the one who's been having Harry looking so wrecked and sexually frustrated like this. Which, sheesh. It's never happened before.

Shaking his head, Harry stumbles forward, fucked out of his mind, and reaches for the faucet and turns it. Water flows down, creating splashing sounds against the marble, and then against Harry's skin as he washes his hand. Ducking down and shutting his eyes, Harry washes his face as well, waking himself up off yet another subspace.

As he just does that, cooling up, suddenly there's the sound of the door slowly creaking open, closing softly afterwards, and then something hard is pressing against Harry's bum crack. Something curvy and massive and warm. And then his waists is being wrapped up by two lanky arms. Harry switches the faucet off and sighs, looking up toward the mirror to give the boy a blank stare.

"I'm not working today," he simply tells Akira--the pale, chinky-eyed boy who's practically grinding against his arse, seductively filthy so--also, ridiculously--like a freaking weirdo. Harry's dick wouldn't even twitch at this sort of agenda.

Akira, the half-Japanese, half-British boy that's in the same year as Harry, pouts from behind him, arms still snaked around Harry's waists loosely, chin tucked on Harry's left shoulder, hard bulge brushing upward and downward continuously in between Harry's arse cheeks. "Why not, Styles?" The half-Asian asks, voice sounding throaty in seconds flat to this conversation.

Sighing in exasperation, Harry bites out, "Just because," and then slipping away from the Japanese boy's hold.

Harry makes for the exit just like that, praying the boy would just drop it already, but then his wrist is out the sudden being pulled by clammy hands though, and then his naturally subby self is being yanked back in the middle of the loos, body pliant and light. And--well, sometimes Harry admittedly hates how he's so easy to be manhandled like this, really. Like, some guy could just probably, actually rape him without him putting up a fight, you know? Just like what this Asian kid will probably do to him right now... fuck.

"Let go!" Harry yells, getting riled up. Akira won't budge though, despite Harry's pounced repeatedly on his chest, wriggling out of his grip.

He gets slammed against the wall as a result, the horny Japanese kid pinning his larger body against his. "Just--stay still, Harry, I just wanna--," Harry quits trying to get away at this point, has tired up, feeling the boy nosing along his jaw. "I just wanna smell you, alright? It's been months since the last time I got you like this. I need your--smell. Fuckin' addicted to it."

Rolling his eyes, heart beating frantically in his chest, Harry eventually, all-out, and just wholly sags under the boy's towering arms, stays still, giving in to the desperate boy, seeing as he's at the verge of _crying_. The boy does what he said he needs to do, and that is _smell_ him. Fucking unbelievable...

And this. This is what one Harry Styles can do to the boys of this academy. Apparently so. He drives them wild, see, and insane, and--horny, obviously. He's long since began this sort of body-selling within the school, making boys pay him money or food, or _rides_ somewhere, after they get what they want and need from him. Whether it'd be a blow job, a hand job, or perhaps him, going all submissive like this and letting them do whatever they want to his body... suck his cock, sniff his scent like a loon, nip and lick along his throat, or like, eat his arse out just when he feels like being generous. Something along those. But then again though, never has Harry ever thought of allowing the boning part, because no, he refuses firmly. Harry has once engraved to a stone the promise of never surrendering his virginity to just anyone. Only to the one he loves... like, truly loves. He wants that part at least to himself; wants that one the least bit sacred. Harry will only give himself fully and wholeheartedly to the one he's madly in love with. And none of these boys are _it_ \--his soulmate. Or whatever. So there's that.

As the Asian boy starts licking along his throat, his jaw, and then across his shut lips, Harry squirms against him and gestures for the time 'ticking'. The boy blinks at him, looking so unsatisfied and lustful; Harry only stares back, a blank look on his face. "Have you quite finished, Matsumoto?" He snaps, but dead calm, slowly but surely glaring now.

The boy releases him, a bit breathless, visibly turned-on and hard on his lower region. Harry couldn't be more careless. "Styles, I wasn't even done--"

"That would be 2 quid," Harry cuts in, lifting up a hand, asking for the payment.

Looking embarrassed as fuck, Akira stuffs a hand in his blazer pocket and retrieves his wallet. He pulls out a couple of papers and hands them over to Harry's readied palm. "Here...uhm. 'S all I've got."

Harry looks at the amount of money in his hand. "Seriously?" He flicks his gaze back up to glare at the boy. "How cheap, man," he mutters, brows knotting together. Akira looks down, can't take the scrutiny. At that, Harry makes to turn away and finally, _finally_ out the gent loos, feeling all but pissed. He's probably late now in Louis' last session. _Fuck this. Fuck Akira Matsumoto._ Sighing in disbelief, Harry doesn't leave just yet, not before saying, in his most passive aggressive tone, "Never wanna hear from you again."

And then he's off, fixing his fringe and dusting his pants and blazers, hoping for the best he doesn't smell of come, whatsoever.

Harry lets the door shut on its own behind him.

♡♡♡♡

Back at their homeroom later, for the last class session today, Harry with his head tilted, hands over his desk, watches intently as Mr. Tomlinson discusses the wonders of Hamlet, watches pointedly the way the man carries himself around the secluded area, the way he speaks with that pretty mouth of his, moves his hands and those delicate wrists at each word, as he walks with such...immovable stance.

Harry has to swallow dryly just as Louis' jaw clenches around a syllable spoken, making him hard in an instant for some reason. _A dick twitch._ It's confirmed then, Harry's always hard around his prof, has never gone limp.

"So," Louis chirps, head whipping around as he holds up his textbook. He eyes the entirety of the class, fit as fuck as ever--with his button up and dark blazer, chinos folded around his ankles, leather shoes obviously lacking of socks from underneath--walking along the room's aisle. His blue eyes roam the place; Harry want them to fixate on him. They don't...not yet. "What do you think is... 'rotten in the state of Denmark,' as Marcellus tells us? What do we learn about the situation in Scene I, hmm? Any raised hands?"

Moments pass, and Katherine Richards from the 2nd row answers. She got it partly correct, earning herself applause from the teacher. Head turning, Mr. Tomlinson smiles, and then he proceeds with another query, questioning about Scene II. As the questioning goes on, with Louis asking this time, "What is the function of the Polonius-Ophelia-Laertes family in this play? What parallels exist between their situation and that of the ruling family?" Someone from behind Harry and the girls tosses a crumpled paper that lands over Kendall's desk, quite a bit blatantly so. Harry furrows his brows as he watches Kendall pry the thing open, chewing a gum mindlessly and reading something that's written in it over.

While this unfolds before him, Harry in his completely unaware state didn't notice Louis coming toward their seats at the back, specifically in front of Kendall herself, a curious look on his face. As he reaches them, the teacher quickly snatches the paper from Kendall, the girl turning sideways in a panicking way, facing Melissa and Harry, and--and why the hell is she looking at _Harry_ like that? What's wrong? What's that crumpled paper about anyway?

_Oh, God, what's that crumpled paper about?_

Breath hitching against his throat, heart stopping and lungs closing in painfully, Harry with alert instincts looks up at Mr. Tomlinson who's reading whatever it is that's scribbled in that paper, wishing he's wrong with his first and foremost accusations built in his head, that it wasn't Sam's, or Tristan's, or Michael's, or--just any of the fuckboys in this classroom--because if that's the case, then...

And Louis finally finishes reading, looking up, gaze zeroing in on _him_. The professor walks toward him, stops at his desk. Harry gulps. "I believe this is for you, Mr. Styles," Louis says, handing over the paper with that...stern, cold look on his face, cerulean eyes empty, lips formed into a thin line.

Harry takes the crumpled sheet gingerly, grimacing as he peers over the stuff written in it, because _shit_. Holy shit.

**_wanna fuck tonight, styles? mum's given me my whole month allowance. i can pay you doubles this time xxxx_ **

This time? What does he even fucking mean by 'this time'? Harry's never fucked anyone in his life! But fuck, Louis has seen these. He's... Jesus, no.

Harry turns completely white, blood rising to his head, mouth drying and face numbing. He looks up just in time to see that Louis' already turned to his back to walk away, like nothing's happened, like he's not seen something disgusting...one of which being Harry, being offered someone else's allowance for sex. Fuck. Harry doesn't even sell that. Looking over his shoulder, Harry eyes the boys at the back--all looking apologetic, at least--and glares. _Fuck you all_ , Harry mouths between gritted teeth, _fuck you all for ruining my only chances with the man_ , this part he doesn't say.

Classes coming to an end, Louis declares he talks to this kid who threw the paper to Kendall earlier, demanding he needs reasons why this mystery kid has done it and all. Harry watches on with probable fear in his eyes, as Alfonso himself after all comes up to Louis' desk while the rest of the class dispersed. _Will he tell? If so, how much will he tell?_

Louis and Harry pass by each other in the hallways shortly after, and Louis completely ignores Harry, just going on his way wordlessly, leaving the school doors and walking the couple meters toward the night blue gates. Harry with his heart shattering meets up with Alfonso then once the coast is clear, with Kendall, Cara, and Melissa tagged along with him; with their arms folded against their chests, chins held up and each got one eyebrow raised, they all sass and tell the boy off, blaming him for a lot of things, including his big asshat mouth because yes, goddamn it, he's just confessed to their professor he's once paid Harry for a hand job in the backseat of his car--that money Harry used to pay for his tube ride back home that same night, as well as his dinner just to get through the next 10 hours. Harry assumes this is why the teacher wouldn't even pay him a brief glance just now, probably wholly put off.

Harry wonders then, how on earth is he going to put his 'Operation: Steal Mr. Louis Tomlinson's Heart' into action now, if he's like, totally turned off with him? _Harry's crush... turned off with him. God, no._

♡♡♡♡

"Listen, we'll try tomorrow, okay, Haz?" Melissa says--promises--sounding reassuring and concerned, holding Harry on each his arms. "We'll approach him for you tomorrow, and he will take the bait."

Harry blows a sigh, head hung low, just all out defeated. He can feel his cheeks numbing with the cold, his lips drying alongside it, but Harry doesn't even care about those things for now. He's just literally saw before his eyes--the lasts of his chance on his professor, everything crumbling to the ground. And it's all because of him, being such a subby kitten slut. _Cockslut._ Harry frowns harder just thinking about the empty look Louis gave him when they crossed paths in the hallways during late dismissals...

As Harry nods his thoughtless agreement, still pouting, Kendall and Cara both give him a group hug, Melissa following after. Harry stands alone at the subway as he watches his girl friends wait by the curb and hail for a cab, Cara letting Kendall climb in before her. As for Melissa, she's got to go back to their school to wait for her family car's service. Eleanor stayed behind, the reason she isn't with them in the first place, since she's probably sitting in the library and sorting her head about...stuff anyway. Stuff Harry can't care about for now.

He goes home then, catching the tube to his flat. Harry sleeps it off for the first minutes he gets home, thinking about uploading the video he still hasn't aired for later, feeling tired and mentally drained; he's got another video to record when he wakes, he already knows, so that's where he focused his mind instead.

♡♡♡♡

Today is the day. The day Operation: Steal Mr. Louis Tomlinson's Heart is supposed to be done. By who? By Harry's friends of course...as well as by him. Well, he wishes himself good luck for the hundredth time, for good measure. Whatever.

It's another finished day in school. Harry has waited for all their classmates to get out of the classroom right after the bell has rang, wanting Louis alone to himself and the girls.

Peeking inside the homeroom, Harry feels his skin crawl the moment he lays eyes on his professor sitting alone in his chair, hands over his desk.

He looks behind him, seeing Cara and Kendall mingling to themselves, with Eleanor looking bored, and then Melissa just patiently waiting on him and possibly his signal.

He clears his throat. "He's alone now, girls."

Melissa nods at this, affirming, going toward Harry as she carries her books. With Eleanor and Kendall staying behind, chattering to themselves, Cara, Melissa and Harry all barge in through the doors and slowy approach Louis in front of his desk. It's now or never.

Coming up to him, for one, Harry notices how Louis looks a whole lot startled, blue eyes wide (oh God, those beautiful blueblueblue eyes, with those long, pretty eyelashes to match...ugh), jaw dropping slightly open. He blinks at them.

Heart beating like crazy in his chest, Harry is momentarily left speechless as the man who just found out about his slutty agendas in school yesterday sees him again like this, in a non-academic-related way, looking him up and down to his waistline. He cannot speak.

There's a warm hand suddenly clasping his own from underneath him, bringing him back to his senses. It's Cara.

"Got a minute to spare, Sir Tommo?" She asks, saving Harry all the trouble doing intros.

Appearing quizzical, or like perhaps, immensely skeptical, Louis cocks an eyebrow as he removes his glasses, rubbing his eyes and then adjusting to his visions by blinking repeatedly. Harry almost fainted, seeing Louis without his glasses up close is just--it's such a great fucking opportunity.

"Yeah, sure. Shoot," Louis says then, talking easily, leaning back in his chair like a _god._ Like, with the whole scruffy look he's got ongoing, deliciously rough stubble along his jaw, cheekbones on point and looking like they could cut a salad, and with all that languid, _tired dad_ posture, Harry swears he can just sit on his lap here and now, and then he'll be completing the entire Sugar Daddy Persona™. And then there is Harry and his teenage hormones--R.I.P. to both that and him. Fuck. "Something you girls need?" He asks, tilting his head, eyes averting and stopping...to him. "Mr. Styles?"

Harry swallows, breaths short circuiting, heart palpitating in his chest, and--oh, what the actual fuck is going on with him anyway, honestly? Harry's got this, hasn't he? God. He's not the self-conscious type for fuck's sakes. He's a naturally born charmer type of boy, this should be _nothing_ to him.

This should be--

But then he locks gazes with the Louis fucking Tomlinson though, and his mind just goes haywire, world whirling fast and then into a drastic halt. He can't move his slacked jaw.

"Oh, uhm, actually..." Melissa starts, voice soft, but is cut off immediately.

By Cara. "Harry wants to tell you something, Mr. Tommo," she all but blurts, and then she's suddenly nudging Harry urgently like a bollocking _moron_. With no shame in her skinny body. A bollocking twat and a moron with _no shame._ And really, who even thought it was a good idea that they invited Cara along with this plan instead of just Melissa and Kendall? Cara is always so straightforward, so out of Harry's league, so--oh, Jesus Christ, there's no time for this.

"Oh." Louis cocks another eyebrow. And then he licks his lips, a bit of his mustache probably also getting wet by his tongue at that... "Right then. What is it, Mr. Styles?"

_Breathe in, breathe out. It is now or never, Harry Edward Styles._

Fishing out the paper complete with his number and an invitation to watch some film in his or Louis' flat (if the teacher approves of it, which, he prays and hopes he will) he's prepared two days prior all for this exact moment, Harry steps forward and--with his gaze casted downwards, heart stuck on his mouth and butterflies swarming in his hot belly--gently hands over the neatly folded pastel yellow letter and waits patiently until Mr. Tomlinson takes it from his grasps.

The teacher still doesn't. And that just slowly shatters Harry's pounding hard heart, threatening to appear at the brims tears, about stinging his eyes, because being rejected probably is the worst thing that will ever happen to Harry... He doesn't think he could take it... He doesn't want it to happen... He--

And Louis finally takes the paper, skin to skin brushing, sending goosebumps to Harry's pathetically almost-in-too-deep self.

With no further ado, Harry mumbles out in a rush, afraid if he slowed down with this, Louis might just change his mind and never take a peek at what he wrote in that paper, "Hope to hear from you soon," and then he's dashing away after that, not stealing a glance at the professor no more, with Cara and Melissa hot on their heels, the two minx both giggling their way out the scene with him. And even when they get in the hallways, actually, their voices are still echoing down the corridors as they all go. Harry couldn't careless, he's got his own heart to take care of--needs it to calm the heck down.

They stop on their tracks and find themselves at their usual spot by the tree when taking their lunches. Every kid in campus are giving them strange looks; Cara and Eleanor have to sass them off by raising their flawlessly trimmed eyebrows just so they are cut by minimal of slack.

"You think he'll call?" Harry eventually asks, after a couple of minutes to their adrenaline rush. He can still feel fireworks exploding in his tummy, back and neck all damped with cold sweat.

Melissa shrugs. "Maybe?"

"Well, hopefully," Cara mutters, and then she looks at Harry. "You're one fucking faunlet, you know that, H? You could've just fancied any other kid in our school, but oh-to the hell-to the no, you chose to have a piece of our new professor. Honestly, H."

Harry giggles loudly, he can't help it. He shakes his head. Cara grins now, going toward him and tackling him in for a hug. Melissa, Kendall and even Eleanor follow, and now they're a pile of giggling mess, huddled in a silly girly group hug. Kendall ruffles Harry's curls once they all part. "I'm so proud of you, baby Hazza. You're all grown up now," she coos teasingly.

Harry scrunches up his nose and makes a biting motion at her fingers that tangled in his locks. "Tosser," he guffaws.

Melissa laughs. And Eleanor gets to say the last words before they're all heading toward the exit of the school's premises, "At least use protection when the professor fucked you, understood, Harry?"

And really, Harry can only nod, lacking of a witty comeback, for his cheeks are flushing extremely hot, that it just left him inarticulately speechless.


	6. part 1/2: you make it look like it's magic ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are two parts for chapter six, so yayayayay!! (:
> 
> harry is ashamed abt the note his fuckboy classmate made - he wouldn't talk to his girl friends as well, bc louis ignored something of his.
> 
> the girl gang gets to work then.

_wanna fuck tonight, styles?_

His heart drops twelve feet under the soil, once again, just recalling those first few clumsily scribbled words in his head, as they keep on taunting him each time. He takes a deep breath, walks faster.

_mum's given me my whole month allowance._

If that isn't the most suggestive intro... as if someone who was supposed to be on the receiving end of it is presumably a slut themselves... then Louis doesn't know what. Harry Styles, taking people's money over sexual favors. Louis spits on the ground as he fights through the howling wind. Seems like it's gonna pour. Like his heart is right now, stomach grumbling in utter distaste.

_i can pay you doubles this time xxxx_

This time, it said. Louis almost scoffed. _This time?_ So that means it's happened once already, hasn't it? Or maybe twice... thrice? The boy with the prettiest eyes and brightest dimpled smile Louis has ever laid eyes on has sold himself to one of his classmates, possibly for however amount of times. Surely, Louis has spoken to the owner of this letter, has made them admit what really happened, and Louis was forced to believe that the only thing that's happened was of Harry Styles, giving this kid a hand job at the backseat of their car. And then being payed afterwards.

Now who would fall for that bullshit anyway, seeing as it contradicts completely what was written on that goddamn letter? Hadn't Louis caught them mingling about at the back of the classroom, would he not have known about such, innit. So let's just say, what if, Louis didn't actually see it? Will the story be the same? Did Alfonso really only get a hand job from Harry? If Louis wasn't the person who took that letter, and asked what really happened, would Alfonso say the same thing? _He only gave me a hand job at the backseat of my car, sir. Nothing more, I swear._

Louis huffs, jogging his way up his flat as he hugs himself against the cold, messenger bag bouncing on his side as he goes. "I don't believe it," he mutters bitterly under his breath, imagining the look on Harry's face as he gets wrecked in someone else's backseat of the car, is a writhing mess and a whining young teenager, all flushed from his neck to his cheeks.

He doesn't believe it, Louis, that it was just a harmless hand job, a one-off pleasure giving and receiving, _despite Louis so wants to_. Because maybe Harry really does sell himself. Sex for money, money for sex. How poor is he anyway, to go down such route?

It's such a low blow... A filthy low blow. But what did Louis expect from the twink anyway? _He's exactly that, isn't he? A twink! A fucking twink for fuck's sakes_. Louis has known from the get-go. He first knew about him being a sex plaything, famous in the porn industry, a person who earns money for selling his body all over the internet, so _really_. If there's anything Harry is good at, it's giving himself to people in order to get them off--give heads--give someone a hand job in the backseat of their car, the lot.

How he'd been so stupid and idiotic and, fuck, _naïve._ He didn't even realize that maybe even Niall or Zayn or any of the people he knows in real life may also be wanking over the same boy he's talking--stressing--about in his head right now.

Harry Styles is... he is not the type that Louis can just own to himself, for the boy is owned by everybody else. By everyone. And it's not like Louis can run the boy's life for him, right--he doesn't own Harry. He's just his teacher, one of his avid subscribers.

Harry doesn't belong to anyone. He's just owned by everyone. And Louis really needs to shut his brain up now about the boy whom he will never ever own by himself, focus on some things else perhaps, and just call it a night.

_Harry isn't yours, idiot. You may have seen his entirety, knows about his camboying, but he isn't yours. Wake the fuck up._

After feeding his cats, written a few for his tomorrow's lesson plan, Louis climbs in his bed and sleeps for the night, not even bothering to reread what the boy gave him after dismissals this late afternoon.

♡♡♡♡

When Louis goes to Saint Bridget's Academy the next day, in his best attire so far, mind, he does what his mind has told him to do the night before he went to bed: to focus on some things else.

And so that's exactly what he does, being an active teacher in class and laughing with his students, grading each and everyone's recitation, and not even paying Harry Styles a loaded glance, the unprofessional motherfucker he is.

But once he dares though, his heart gets crushed in just one simple eye-contact.

It's quite obvious, is the thing, considering the boy is looking at him like he's just killed his pet bird, longing, almost as if at the verge of crying... to which has Louis momentarily wondering what he's done now to deserve that. Because that's what this is about, isn't it? Louis obviously did something. He and Harry may not be in some sort of 'level' of whatever it can be, but Louis knows deep inside him, there _is_ something that's connecting the two of them.

That's why the wondering continues anyway. Louis still doesn't get it. He wants to understand, however. His conscious can't take seeing that look across the boy's face--it's affecting him so much. So hard.

But then the time comes though, and it's finally the end of his class and Harry's girl friends, without Harry himself, are standing at the door of the homeroom, all talking to themselves as they look at Louis with such curious, massive eyes... that it finally, finally hits Louis.

The yellow folded paper Harry gave him. He's never responded to it. And to think he's taken custody of it for almost 48 hours now and yet, no reaction coming from him.

Well.

No wonder the boy had such longing gaze directed at him throughout his class. He's such a horrible person, _god._

♡♡♡♡

When Louis goes home that night, aside from thinking nonstop and imagining Harry Styles all pink cheeked and confused, _mostly at lost_ , because his invitation for something was left unanswered, he also doesn't know what to do. With himself, Harry, and the letter. He's feeling hopeless--and very much contemplative with his next moves, frankly.

His laptop is open idly next to him, David Beckham in his complete jersey playing footie across the field staring back at him, making him all the more jittery than he already is.

Thing is, he wants to so bad. He wants to so fucking bad to text Harry and invite him in for whatever. _Whichever_. Just anything to be close to him, really. Maybe watch a film or something... Order takeaways and bond over Fifa. Louis will hook up his old Xbox (that has gathered months and months of dusts under his TV set) just for the teen, if that's what he'd want.

But like, _how._ He's too much of a coward.

For one, the girls would know about it--Cara, Kendall, Eleanor and Melissa, AKA his _students_. Which, that's just inappropriate, innit? It's obvious the kid has special feelings for him. Louis knows this, he's done the same thing back when he was also fresh and 17, asking someone out and giving his number to them. It won't look good, him, responding to Harry's offer and then inviting him over. Only if for a film and some bags of crisps, that wouldn't matter. The only thing that will matter is the fact that he had allowed something like a teacher-student date to happen.

Two, Harry is like, 12 years younger than him, a fucking decade and two years. It wouldn't look nice even if granted, they would only watch a movie together, not do anything stupid like kiss, and maybe munch on freshly baked cookies Harry has offered to bring with him--because yes, that's the other content of the yellow letter, right beside his scribbled phone number.

Also, Harry shouldn't really go for someone like Louis. He _shouldn't._ Aside from the kid's too good for him, Louis will also go to jail for taking advantage of Harry's questionable liking towards him.

Questionable since Harry is so beautiful and free to do whatever he so pleases, and that he definitely can have anyone in this planet. Just like that, just with his blinding smile alone and dimples and curls... His charms and best assets. Louis is aware of how many boys and girls in his class that've got such massive male and female boners for him, words of admiration towards the sweet boy slipping, so. So really, it's just ridiculous that he's the one Harry is trying to pull.

But like, coming to think of it... what if--what _if_ Louis is just being delusional? What if he's stressing over nothing? What if this request for invitation is actually just one of Harry's ways of apologizing for being tardy in class?

_Oh fucking bollocking twat you are Louis, of course it's not. With a couple of Xxx's and his number in one paper? The kid wants in your pants, you git! And you have to do something about it! Fast!_

In the end, as he is cuddling with Saturn and Lee on the couch, remote in hand, Louis doesn't text Harry. Not because he doesn't want to, but maybe for the fact that he wants to clear things up a bit with him firstly.

♡♡♡♡

Louis stands in line at the coffee shop the next day, during break time, fidgeting with his tie as he thinks of something to get.

While he does just those, he looks around him out of boredom and sees a couple of SBA's students huddled by the pavement outside of English Caffeine. With a couple of adjustments with his visions through his glasses, Louis could've sworn he's just seen a mop of curls there at some point. Like he's hallucinating at first... But then he realizes that Harry really _is_ there, being squished in between Cara and Melissa, both girls supporting his weight like a pair of troubled big sisters, Kendall's hands cupping his cheeks as though trying to soothe him over something, with Harry shaking his head over and over. Eleanor is just idling right beside them, picking at her nails, although Louis can tell that the creases formed on her forehead are caused by the pouting little Harry himself.

 _A pouting little Harry_. Louis' heart drops to his stomach, clearly seeing now the look of distraught etched across Harry's pale face, how his eyebrows are knotted in the way he's being denied something, the way his eyelids are casted downwards together with his eyelashes... _Like a beaten kitty._

Louis fucking hates seeing him sad like this. Sad because of _him._

He closes his eyes, turns away from the scene unfolding outside of the shop, and just takes a deep breath. He can do this--he can ignore the nagging feeling in his chest for a bit more, wait until the coast is clear, before he can finally speak to Harry and confront some things to him.

Right. So.

Returning to his rightful senses just now, Louis approaches the counter when it's finally his turn. He orders himself some coffee and some scone, and then goes to sit on one of the unoccupied seats inside the air-conditioned shop.

He munches on his food, tapping idly on the wooden table, as he scans through the test papers his students submitted this morning to him. He checks amiably the ones they've got correct, crosses out the ones they've got all wrong, and then puts their overall average at the top right corner of their exams.

As this phase goes on for a little while, taking sips on his coffee throughout, meanwhile at the entrance of the shop, come strolling in Melissa, Cara and Kendall, the three of them pulling Louis' attention all at once. And just as he's predicted seconds to their appearances, tops, they approach his table with looks of desperation plastered across their flushed from the cold faces.

"Professor. Can we talk to you for a sec?" Shoots Kendall as soon as they stop in front of him.

He lowers down his Montblanc pen and assesses them with a nod, motioning for them to take a seat. "Sure, ladies. What is it?"

Cara sits down, so does Kendall. Then Melissa just stays behind Cara's chosen seat, playing with her fingers in the way Louis knows is a habit made out of worrying way too much. These kids, he deems as he ignores the fact that Harry's not here with them, should stop being so serious with handling other people's love-lives, and just, maybe be the youths that they are as of the moment, because _live while you're young, right?_ Something like that. And perhaps Louis should discuss that in class one of these days, get it out of his system and let the idea be played with by his students... to serve as something to consider about.

Watching Cara bite on her lips as she looks at Kendall, Louis hums as if to tell them he hasn't got all day, and that he is busy with checking their exams, and therefore they should just spill the beans _now._

Melissa must've got the message. "It's about Harry, sir."

"Okay," Louis exhales, keeping his composure, careful not to give anything away, despite just hearing the boy's name stated out loud is already making him nervous as heck. "What about him?"

"Well, he--," Melissa immediately cuts herself off, biting at her lips as well, embarrassed. She looks down, long hair dyed a blonde ombre falling on her shoulders.

It's Cara who gets straight to it, like the usual. "He kind of have the biggest crush on you, sir." _And there it is, Louis knew it._ "And he was waiting for your text the entire night last night, and--"

"Why didn't you..." Kendall cuts in, lightly pounding on the table, shoulders sagged but jaws stiffed. Louis' heartbeats race from there, being face-to-face with Harry's friends like this, who are his students, by the way. _Just his fucking students._

"Yeah, why?" Melissa still follows up, eyebrows furrowed, eyes wild.

And...and Louis is stunned at this. Very stunned. What should he tell them? What do they even expect from him to say? This is all fucked up. _He_ is fucked. And Harry will always be his student, nothing has changed, despite the 'big revelation' that Harry after all fancies him. "Ladies, ladies, please. Calm down. Settle down." Louis sighs, giving them a frustrated look. "Why are you telling me all these again?"

Scratching at the back of her neck, Cara scoots a little to her right toward Kendall and then directs her gaze on Louis. "Because Harry won't speak to us, Mr. Tommo. He, uh, kind of blames us for even suggesting that we give you his number in the first place..."

"For nothing," pipes up Melissa, nodding as she pouts. Louis knows they're just guilt tripping him now, he's no idiot, but fuck, it's fucking working anyway. He can feel his stomach dropping even lower to the ground as they tack on, the three monkeys pulling the puppy faces at him.

"He's like, so ashamed that he wouldn't bother looking at any of us, sir T, says he's nothing left to boast," says Cara sadly, jutting her lower lip quite obnoxiously.

"He really did root for your call, sir. Or text."

"Yeah," Kendall mumbles, frowning. And, what the fuck? What do they want from him? Are these girls fully lying, or has Louis actually ruined a fellowship between friends, if partially? No matter though, because Louis is planning on making things better with Harry anyway. So might as well just reassure these girls, right?

"Well, to tell you ladies the truth," he begins to say then, leaning forward, "I've been meaning to text him... but last night had been an exhausting night for me, so I thought I'd just send him a text today. Or tonight."

" _Really?_ " Eyes wide and bright, Cara slumps forward and taps her palms over the table, almost toppling down Louis' coffee. Louis nods. "Great! Uhm, we--we'll go now, sir. Thank you so much for your cooperation--," Kendall elbows her so hard she gets cut mid-rambling. Louis refrains from narrowing his gaze, feigning oblivion.

"A-anyway! Text Hazza for us!" Melissa puts in, voice flailing by one syllable. Kendall and Cara begin pushing up from their seats and retreating back toward the exit.

"Yeah, please and thank you, Mr. Tommo!" Follows up Kendall herself, and then the three of them are at last out of the door, meeting with the windy city of Winchester. Louis shakes his head, because what the fuck even just went down here?

When Louis goes back to his class later, he learns that Harry isn't there. Hypothetically. He ignores the twinge taking its residence within his chest and just carries on distributing everyone's examination results.

♡♡♡♡

He stares back at Harry's handwriting, the pink _xx's_ he's left for him, and then the heart next to the last digit of his cellphone number.

It's quite funny, this, because if this wasn't signed with Harry's name, Louis would still know it belongs to him. It's pretty, that's why, everything that Harry is, and Louis--he's totally endeared by it. Endeared to the point that all thoughts of the other letter from yesterday--the nasty one, specifically, the one from Alfonso--are getting completely, and yet slowly forgotten.

He's been rereading this piece of fragrant paper ever since he got home, even as he was changing into his homey cozy clothes and discarding his work attire, eyes glued to Harry's penmanship, and even until now while he's having dinner all alone by the kitchen, Lee and Saturn wandering and meowing under the table.

Finished contemplating on whether he'll do this now or not, Louis rushes to shovel all his dinner down and picks up his cellphone. He sends Harry a message, fingers shaking as he does so. He just can't believe this is happening now, considering he's just once been one of heyangel98's avid clients.

_**Dear, Harry Styles. Good evening to you, child. It's your teacher, Mr. Tomlinson. So, I was told that an angel had been feeling lonely lately... which is just a bad, bad thing. The angel is seeking some attention from their professor, is what I heard. And that is whyyyyyy, here he is. Finally :D he wants to say sorry that only now is he sending you a message. These past few days had been quite hectic, so he hopes you understand. Hope you forgive him. Smile !! :) x** _

Louis exhales the air he hasn't realized he's been holding as he composes the message for Harry. But then he regains his composure quickly, and he immediately taps send, before he can even chicken out and back out like the coward arse he normally is...

Or rather just when around the pretty cherub, he is. He may be into deep already.

Could be. Must be. Louis sighs.

Moments later is when Harry's reply finally comes through. When Louis' finished taking care of the dishes, feeding his cats, and has settled to sleep in, because yes, he's not logging in on paypercome.com anymore.

**_Hiiii, Lou. Ummm, is that okay? To call you just 'Lou'? :) I'm very sorry for the delay response... I was working. Also...thank you for doing this. I really needed it. I can't help think I did something wrong that made you hate me... I'm talking about the paper Alfonso threw at Kendall days ago. None of it was true. If any, I'm a virgin. We never...you know. Anyway, this is getting a bit awkward, so I'll just...go...now. H .Xx_ **

Louis swallows. Despite all the contents of Harry's loaded text, the part where he's just asked for Louis' permission _yet again_ if it's fine to call him by his nickname like the polite boy he is, the only one that's made it to Louis' God forbidden mind is the part where he mentioned he was just 'working', that's why his reply came shortly. And so, Louis now, like the true asshole he is walking this planet, of all things is imagining Harry fucking himself with assumably the quirkiest dildo again...moaning sweetly, penetrating his prostate and jabbing repeatedly at it, all the while thinking about...maybe Louis, that that dildo was Louis' dick.

Maybe.

Probably.

Shit. Louis bites his lip. _What if? That's possible, innit?_

But. Fuck. If there's anyone who deserves to go to hell it's truly Louis, isn't it? _Because your child has just confessed he's still a virgin to you, you pervert! You know it takes a lot to admit to something like that, right? And the least that you can do is fucking listen and not think sexual thoughts about them!_

Louis sucks in a deep breath then and composes a new reply. He tells Harry that it's fine--he's fine and everything else is swell--and that it doesn't matter anymore, because that's in the past now. He tells him he can call him Lou, and asks how he's holding up with juggling both school and work. Louis also tells him he believes in him, reassuring the boy that Louis isn't the littlest bit mad at him too, and even advising that perhaps he should just stay away from his mean classmates.

Harry in turn promises that he will, saying that they aren't worth his time anyway, and that he's just so done of being sexually harassed like that. It turns out he gets them all the time, so Louis makes a mental note of being fully protective over Harry from now on, if what he's saying is a literal thing. Because what the fuck? Even if Harry is a camboy, he's still mostly underage, no matter if he's at legal age now at seventeen and is independently taking care of his own. _Harry is still just a boy._ Louis can't let this kind of thing go on under his watch, not when he is so painfully fond of the Bambi eyed boy, not when he is aware of such abomination, and most especially not when he is halfway in love with him.

Because hey, it doesn't have to be publicized, right? No one has to know that he's slowly falling for the boy with the pretty green eyes, sweetest dimpled smiles, and softest looking curls. Louis will protect this boy at all costs, even if he has to put a kid on detention because he wants to make sure Harry is being respected, that one particular punishment being his most hated gesture, ever since he's started his teaching career.

This is how important Harry is now to Louis, unsurprisingly, and again, no has to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> juicy scenes start at 2/2 ;) any reaction for this? none? well ok :( :)


	7. part 2/2: so i'ma care for you, you, you ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emojis, "wolves", pastel home, and something...you'll squeal for, i guess :~] enjoy... x

They've been texting now. And as much as Louis wants to act all grown up and matured as he reads Harry's texts, he still can't help but feel giddy, happy, and warm all over. He tends to chuckle to himself, because _Harry is just so freaking cute, alright? He's a child._ He sends Louis these punchlines... corny jokes, and weird knock-knocks that mostly don't make sense. He also sends handfuls of emojis varying from bananas, peaches, rainbows, LOLs, kitties, moons, suns, and many more, with a picture of him making faces and grinning maniacally. Which. Is. Just. So. Cute.

And then he'll send Louis random texts saying he's hungry or bored or just--perhaps running to the toilets because he has to take 'the biggest dump ever'. He's a shameless minx, Harry. Funny and cheeky, never failing to make Louis laugh and smile.

And Louis, well, he is so, so smitten with the lovely, beautiful boy. Admittedly. Quite frankly. _He's halfway in love with him._ Or if he's still even halfway there, he isn't sure. All he knows is that he regrets it now--the part where he did not text Harry right away the moment he got his number, because he had been so stupid.

As for Harry's attendance as of late, Louis has noticed he's gone active in his classes again. That he isn't coming late now, which, that is news. Louis wonders then if Harry's still camboying, or that he's just moved his usual recording routine.

Well, it isn't Louis' business anymore though, is it? Harry needs the money. The boy needs to graduate, needs to meet his goals and have a better career in the future. As long as he's not being harassed by anyone. Louis just has to stick to protecting him where he can see sight of him, end of.

Louis is at the faculty room as of the moment, to get a couple of things he'll need for his plotted out lesson for tomorrow before he heads home, when his co-teacher Liam comes storming in, looking as all hell frantic. As always, he thinks vaguely. Liam is Louis' closest friend slash co-teacher here in St. Bridget, and he's known him to be rather sensible and always so anxious when it comes to his students, and that is why Louis wonders what is it this time, anyway.

"Hey, mate. Something wrong?"

Liam, who is pulling at his hair, looks at Louis in a haste. His brown eyes are wild, bags visible under them, and Louis can already feel the incoming rantings of the guy. "It's about the play being held this month, Lou. Everything's just--shit." He groans, running a hand over his face. "You know I'm the event manager, right?"

And, oh, right, Liam is that kind of a Drama teacher. The Dramatic One. The prof who stresses and runs around a set, yelling over everything and everyone _to be ready in exact call time._ "Look, mate," Louis sighs, trying for reassuring, "you'll be fine, yeah? You got this, I know you do."

Liam sighs. Loudly."Yeah, says someone who hasn't an idea about how this sort of thing works."

Louis' jaw drops, mocking being affronted. He puts a hand on his chest for good measure. "Says who, _Leeyum_? I'll have you know I myself studied Drama once. I even starred in a play!"

At this, Liam perks up, and for once in their friendship, he looks genuinely intrigued, like he actually gives a damn about what Louis is about to say regarding an element he believes he knows only for himself. "Yeah? What piece?"

Breaking into a smirk, feeling a bit triumphant for pulling Liam's full attention regarding Drama, Louis states proudly with a nod, "Grease. I was Danny Zuko."

And, "Nice..." mumbles the now calming down guy, staring at Louis intensely, probably picturing a young Louis dressed for some theatrical play, acting on a stage and giving his best. "I didn't know you studied Drama before."

"Yeah, well." Louis shrugs, as if to tell the guy, _yeah, that's right, Liam. You're not the only who knows real shit about Drama, alright. Some of us have got the same passion once in their lives too. And that just happened to be me._

With the look that Liam gives him in the end, Louis refrains himself to laugh right there and then, because it's one of those determined look with the whole fist-gripping, like Louis has just actually succeeded on giving Liam some hope with this play that he'd be managing for the month to come. Well, all jokes aside, he hopes he is right.

♡♡♡♡

Louis walks out the school gates after he's done sedating Liam Payne, actually happy and flushed on his way to the tube station with the thought of being in his bed early, hands even swaying on either sides of him as he goes, like all that's left now is the classical song where the lyric goes 'I'm walking on sunshine, whoa-oh' as his background tune, and then he'll be all set.

But then he turns a corner though, and he is met by quite a sight of SBA's students huddling suspiciously in some dark alley, talking and discussing something, and--and fuck. Fuck.

All of his enthusiasm seconds from now suddenly goes crushing down on him just like that, the rest of the sunbeams seeping through from the inside of him flushing down the drain, because--

It's Harry. Like a lone deer, he is, Louis can see his petite figure from where he stands rooted to the ground. It's _his boy_ , like a frightened, small deer, being cornered by thirsty wolves...hungry wolves...because he is surrounded by some five to seven blokes, all in messy and disorganized uniforms, both burly and lanky alike. And Louis--he is so, so fucking outraged. So, so fucking _foaming._ So, so hopping mad, that he isn't able to catch himself no more. In a heartbeat, Louis is mad dashing his way towards them. In a heartbeat, Louis is finally near them, and at this rate he can make out a little of what they are asking of Harry.

Or _bribing_ him of. Bribing him about something while these blokes reach out and touch his curls, to which Harry has had his head ducking away, cheeks all red, face twisted into a disgusted grimace.

And fuck, Louis doesn't know what the fuck has happened to his usual speed now when it comes to sprinting, but this is pissing him off--how come he couldn't get to them fast enough? Fast enough that he could've stopped them from _touching_ Harry.

"Stop! Right! There, Austin!" Louis swats Austin Maverick's hand off Harry just in time that it's going for Harry's cheek, and then he turns to face all seven boys with a raging glare, who are now making a spacious way for him to get to Harry--Harry who instantly wraps his flailing lanky arms around him, scared and shaking, burying his face against his side. "What's going on here?" He demands as he instinctively holds Harry's back, angrily and authoritatively, ignoring the overwhelming wave of warmth Harry's rabidly radiating through him, rendering him all the more heroic and righteous at this moment.

"Mr. Tomlinson," Sandy Oliver gasps, eyes wide as he backs away.

Louis grits his teeth, scowling. "What the hell, lads?" He yells at them. And then he looks down at Harry's curling figure against his side, just right under his armpit. "Harry, what were they doing to you?" He hisses.

And Harry looks startled as he peers up at Louis, eyes glassy and wide, and cheeks and nose, down to his throat all pink. Louis deems that must be because of the cold, or perhaps the adrenaline rush for being saved. "N-nothing, uh, Lou--Mr. Tommo--" This isn't right. He can't ask Harry shaking scared shitless like this.

He whips his head and directs his gaze toward Ted Martins then. "Ted, what was that about?"

Ted, looking like he's about to cry, looks at Louis with pleading eyes. "Nothing, sir! We were just--! Uh. We were just about to go home, sir! And, we--"

Louis sighs, feeling Harry gripping at the flesh on his hip, and thinks _fuck it._ Just fuck it. If Harry isn't so shaky right now, shivering, is a right mess, and this time physically harassed, Louis would've taught these kids a lesson they needed. Granted Harry needs caring pronto and be somewhere far away from these fuckboys, Louis as he winces internally decides that this should just end right here and now. _But only for now, though_ , he tells himself--promises himself. He'll take care of them tomorrow.

"You!" He bites, starts to scold, pointing a finger to the seven boys who have their heads lowered down, looking embarrassed if not ashamed. _Good_ , thinks Louis bitterly. "I need you all tomorrow to go to me after class, understood? This isn't over, lads. If you're trying to scare Mr. Styles, then that's downright unforgivable. Bullying is not tolerated around here, you hear?"

"Yes, sir," they answer in chorus. Almost.

"Now go! I dont wanna see any of you still lurking here!" Louis shouts, kicking the concrete wall of the alley, mostly angry at himself for not preventing these boys from touching Harry, the poor boy still clinging tightly on him. As he watches the students scamper away, bringing their school bags with them and disappearing in a corner, Louis finally lets out a sigh and pours his attention on the boy wrapped around his waists. "As for you, Harry. What are you still doing here? Now you know just how dangerous it is, huh? Dismissal had been _hours_ ago, hadn't it? Why are you still here?"

"An hour, technically," murmurs Harry.

"Mr. Styles," Louis says in a warning tone, just letting Harry nuzzle against him, despite he's not shivering violently anymore.

Harry pulls away from him and, _god, he smells so fucking good, how is this kid real_ , the wind blowing in a whim just right behind him and towards Louis. The curly haired boy looks at him, eyes wide and lips parted. "Harry," he murmurs again, blinking innocently, "we had a deal, remember?"

And, what? A deal? Louis doesn't know no deal--oh. _Oh._ The deal. When they had coffee for the first time, and they'd made promises to each other that they'd address them using their first or nicknames when they're outside of school. He still remembers that? _But that had been months ago._

Sighing in defeat and chiefly from affection, rubbing a soothing hand across Harry's back, Louis concedes, can't really tear his gaze away from the lovely boy standing so close to him--or really, pressed to him. "Right. Harry," he tells him, nodding slightly.

And they just stay like this for a while after his last response, basking in the peace and quiet, standing at some random alley which is now just a few metres away from the subway underground.

The place where Louis is supposed to go.

Clearing his throat, Harry exhales and says, cheeks blooming a shade of rose. "Uhm. I was actually... waiting for you, Lou. Dunno if you received my texts, but..."

"Yeah?" Louis cocks a brow, his own cheeks heating up as he fishes out his phone to see if there are any messages there. Indeed, Harry's sent about five messages for him, all saying to meet him at the train station. "You wanna meet up?" He looks at Harry again, watching the way his lips are parting open.

"Yeah, I just. The girls told me you and I take the same transpo to go home, so like... I figured we can just ride together." Harry blinks at him, all pleading Bambi eyes and sniffing, nose scrunching up in pure innocence, melting Louis' heart to submission. He's so adorable, is the thing, even in the dark, so unreachable and--Louis really, really needs to keep himself from pushing the boy up against the wall (because that would hurt, seeing as they're bricks) and smash their lips together, keep Harry barricaded against his own body, and then grind up and down against him, over and over, _over and over_ , and until he's all pliant and limp, then finally attack him with lovebites altogether that would stay on his milky skin, and will still be there when he shows up the next morning. _And you should shut your fucking subconscious now, Louis Tomlinson._

"Hmm," Louis hums, briefly wondering how on earth those girls knew about his home bounding routine, as he once and for all assesses Harry's wonderful suggestion. "Alright," he agrees. _Psh, like he wouldn't_. Harry smiles at that, dimples popping from each his rosy cheeks, and fuck if that isn't the most precious thing Louis' seen in his entire life.

It's like the clouds dispersing for the moon to light all things at such a beautiful starry night. He's rendered yet another genuine smile from the boy, and Louis is just the proudest guy to ever walk this world.

♡♡♡♡

So they rode the tube then, and Harry had insisted that he payed. But of course Louis didn't let that happen and beat him to it. They have the same stop it turned out.

Louis as they start on the streets asks where Harry lives, and the boy points at a certain direction, "Two blocks from here," which makes Louis think about the fact that all this time, he and Harry had been close to each other. _Louis had been a subscriber for far too long, and he hadn't even bumped into Harry, not once, all those months ago. What sorcery._

Looking at Harry, Louis nods his head. "Okay, let's go."

He accompanies him, walking silently beside him, watching animatedly the way Harry's gigantic paws are swaying delicately on his sides, soft curls bouncing gently with his movements. And he's just gone so enticed to the kid, so spellbound that he's totally missed the part where the dark rain clouds have made their appearances up in the skies, covering the stars and the moon, and then it just starts pouring altogether.

"Shit," Louis curses under his breath, walking faster with Harry falling into steps beside him, shielding his bag.

It rains hard while they walk, the top of their heads now damped and their half bodies down to their waists all soaked with rainwater--Louis' glasses blurry by the raindrops--so when they reach Harry's apartment, at last, the boy faces Louis and insinuates that he came in. Hopeful eyes and all. Louis shakes his head--he shouldn't. But, "Just until the rain stops, Lou," Harry presses.

And that must be all that Louis needs in order for him to give in, that desperate sounding and mellow voice of the kid, because that's exactly what he does, nodding his head in surrender.

So the next thing that happens is of them stepping inside of Harry's apartment commercial, taking the short walk along some steep and quiet hallway with various doors left and right, and until they screech into a halt, just right in front of some mint painted door, the numbers 102 coated in red cellophane screwed on the center of it, just placed above a peep hole, the doorknob a shiny gold.

Louis shivers to himself, feeling the cool breeze washing over them both, watching on in concern as Harry fumbles with his keys and the keyhole. His hands are wet and pale, fingers shaking clumsily, and Louis feels as though he has to take them in his own hands, bring them to his mouth, and blow hot breath over them to warm them up. He just feels protective over the boy, like he owes him something, and just by looking at him now, soaked and a shivering mess, Louis can't help but step a little bit closer, sharing body heat, but at the same time making sure Harry is oblivious to it. The boy might just freak before they can even relax inside, and Louis doesn't need for that to happen. He's cold, he's tired, and he could use a cup of tea before he hits the streets again.

Finally, with a bit of jamming, the door unlocks and opens, and it is only now that Louis' realizing he's about entering heyangel98's pad... _the_ heyangel98. The place where he records all his camboy videos, the place where he originally resides, this literal safe haven being the sanctuary Harry Styles is taking his rest, sleeping in, eating at, taking his baths, and lounging about. Louis, just another random fan of the famous twink heyangel98 himself, has made it into his 'workplace', living every man's dreams _now._

"So, uhm. It's not much... but it's home," Harry is mumbling all the sudden, pulling Louis out of his trance. Harry turns his face to address Louis more properly, "I-- please promise me you won't laugh once you see the inside."

_Laugh? Why would he--_

And Harry finally opens the door, cutting Louis mid-thinking, and then steps inside as he pulls the door even wider for Louis to come in too, flicking the lights on.

Blinking a few times, taking his glasses and wiping at them, the first few things Louis takes a notice of as he puts his glasses back on is how neat, how _cozy_ and how goodly scented Harry's flat is. He strolls inside, toeing his dripping shoes off by the _Home Sweet Home_ Harry has as a doormat, all but wanting to mess the beautiful carpeting Harry's done to his floor. All immaculately white and furry... _soft against the soles of Louis' bare feet._

As he goes in further, Louis sees the walls are painted a pastel green, almost identical to Harry's door, only that that's a bit neon, and this is tamer. There is a telly by the living area, a small coffee table in front of it, and then the couches, which are all aesthetically coordinating with the rest of the living room--all of them, floral.

All in all, everything is of light colours, pleasing to the eye. _This is heyangel98's place_ , he reminds himself again.

Nearing the living room, Louis can vaguely remember on one of his videos, the twink has fucked himself over that couch--over there, by the window, the peach and yellow bell floral curtains both drawn, the lights all switched off but the matching floral lamp by the side of the armrest, the twink moaning loudly as he humped a cushion. Louis had been so fixated, so drawn in and so enthralled, that he hit that subscribe button, Harry Styles being the only twink he'd ever taken his time of the day to pay via online, and then spend his lazy nights wanking over the sight of him being wrecked and writhing and panting beautifully.

And Louis should totally shut his brain now though, really, take his mind off the sexual things about the boy, because this is _just Harry_ now, his student and one of his kids, one of the smartest kids he's had in years of teaching, and now his _friend_ as well. He needs to fucking act his most respectful.

"Your place looks perfect, Harry," Louis tells him then, flicking his gaze back to him, and not to the couch set against the window. Fuck.

Harry beams, dimpling again, and offers that Louis takes a seat first, make himself at home. Louis does as he's told, choosing the single couch instead of the one against the window (he's so fucked), and watches Harry disappear into a hallway. And if he's stared just a bit too long at the boy's arse as he went, no one has to know. But Louis is going to hell anyway, so.

Minutely so, Harry comes back from the living area with his hair all styled up--half up and half down, pink elastic band holding his curls up--and with a change of clothes now, a freaking pretty teal jumper that's almost swallowing him entirely, the hems falling softly against his thighs, making him look all the more slim, and then a pair of boxer shorts with sparkles as prints on them, reducing Louis into a fucking fish out of the water momentarily. Luckily for him, the kid doesn't notice. He just blinks at Louis, and Louis has to shake his head just to _snap the fuck out of it._ He hasn't even realized fast enough he's missed a question. So, "Yeah?" he breathes out belatedly.

"If you'd fancy a cuppa?" Harry repeats himself then, cheeks quick to flush, lips bitten red. He's noticed after all. Shit.

Louis takes a large gulp and nods his head dumbly, unable to articulate words. Harry lets out barely audible giggles because of that, as he makes his way toward what Louis assumes is the kitchen, his long and fully-shaven legs striding slowly and causing Louis' mouth to dry. He can't believe this is really happening. Harry looks so angelic, delicate frame so petite, movements painstakingly demure, and...fuck, he smells so heavenly. His place smells so heavenly and looks so, so _him_. Everything in this flat represents Harry, and his likes and favourites, his ideal stuff-- _everything._

Louis sees a number of rainbow designed scented candles atop some bookshelf, romance novels seen by their spines lining the second level of it, the first level being a couple of pictures frames with people smiling identical to Harry's pretty face. Louis decides he'll inspect those later, and perhaps ask Harry about who is who; Louis is curious and wants to know everything about the boy.

The rain still hasn't subsided outside, the pelting against the sliding window's glass sounding all over the flat, as they have their teas in silent, sitting across each other in Harry's living room couches.

No one is talking between them, only their occasional sips being the source of noise aside from the heavy pitter-pattering of the raindrops meeting the streets, and little by little it's making Louis a tad squirm-y under Harry's hooded gaze, because _of course_ he would be directing his attention towards him, for they are the only people in this flat. Like, what did Louis even expect? He should probably start up a conversation, be the matured man that he is, and engage Harry in for some school-related topics... or something extra safer.

But as it is, it's still Harry who speaks up first, only because Louis is such a right mess, always, when around Harry charming Styles. "So..."

"So," he echoes, unused voice sounding a tad foreign even to his own ears.

He feels Harry scoot, rosy knees touching and toes curling, his milky skin a stark contrast against the pastel aesthetics of his living room. Louis looks down, and fuck, Harry's toenails are painted pink? "I didnt know we're practically neighbors..."

Okay, so. Forget about the fucking nail polish, Louis. Small talk. Harry wants small talk. Louis can do small talk, fuck yes.

"Yeah, me too..."

Their eyes lock from there, in sync, and suddenly breathing isn't easy anymore. Suddenly, nothing is funny anymore. And, okay, so, no, they probably shouldn't do small talk, not when he's finally had Harry by himself--alone and laid back. He wants to clear things up with him. He wants _more_ than just a small talk.

He lets out a sigh, opens his mouth to speak.

"Lou--"

"Har--," his eyes go wide, the both of them. He bites his lip, and then gestures with his hand, "Okay, you go first."

Harry pouts and, _no, no, no, no, no_. Louis will cave in again if he keeps on doing that. "No, you," Harry pushes on, crossing his arms _adorably_ petulantly against his chest.

Louis sighs. He can never win against Harry and his annoyingly cute ways.

"What did those boys want from you just earlier?"

And there it goes. It's out in the open now. There's no turning back from here.

He looks up, sees Harry swallow visibly, hugely, which makes him rethink over the happenstance not too long ago, recall in his head what his students had looked when he caught them, how Harry had looked when he stepped in, the way they all stuttered and scrammed off, as though being seen by a professor was the last thing they wanted to happen, ever.

At last, Harry breathes out, and then he says slowly with his syrupy and deep drawl, "Oh... uhm. They wanted to fuck."

_They wanted to fuck._

The way Harry stated those words had Louis all stale on the mouth and blank at the head. He stares at Harry, can't help look him up and down, sizing him up, before muttering darkly, feeling his anger coiling up in his guts, "And?"

Harry makes to lean back in his seat, putting his teacup down over the coffee table. "I refused, simple as that. I don't like any of them."

Louis' jaw sets. He's biased and he knows it, is aware of his incompetence. Louis can't stop himself from feeling so angry with everything, with those boys that harassed Harry. Louis can't keep away from feeling utterly _jealous._

"Do guys do this to you all the time, Harry?" He needs to know.

"Yes..."

"Do they always want in your pants?"

"I...I suppose so, yeah." Harry is once again biting his lip, and Louis is just so done.

"But why the fuck?" So he cusses now, doesn't give a shit anymore, since they're not in school anyway.

Harry shoots Louis an alarmed look. And until he sags, eyelids alike.

"Well, I mean, why wouldn't they?" Harry breathes out, voice suddenly an octave lower, the air that's surrounding them out of nowhere fully _shifting._ The boy drops down on his knees, and Louis' heartbeats begin to race at an unreasonable speed, as he watches this unfold before him. Harry moves toward Louis, slowly, eyes glassy and wide. "I'm pretty, Louis... Arent I?"

Louis wants to snap. _What kind of a question even is that? Of fucking course you are!_

But Louis only swallows, hard, then he decides against lying. "Of course you are, Harry..." He whispers, feeling Harry grab on each his thighs as he reaches him, gazing up at him and batting his lashes slowly, gently. Louis tacks on, at lost for anything else to do, completely unable to move now--now that Harry is squeezing desperately at his thighs, "Don't let others tell you otherwise, Har--"

Harry shakes his head, urgently just to cut Louis off, "See, I like you, Louis Tomlinson. A lot. And the reason why I don't let guys at school take advantage of me anymore is because of you."

Louis' heart is on his mouth, beating...beating hard...beating fast...skipping beats.

"H-Harry... you can't say things like that, I-- I'm your teacher," he squeaks out, "This--this isnt right--"

"But no one has to know, right?" Harry climbs up on him slowly, thighs spreading apart and knees setting on either sides of him, murmuring, "Just us." Louis has the urge to back up a little bit, startled--overwhelmed. He is feeling quite dizzy, senses filled with Harry's smell causing his eyes to shut, eyeballs almost crossing at the proximity of Harry's face against his. "Don't you like me, Lou?" The boy breathes in his face, his hot, sweet breath hitting Louis' prickling skin, making Louis shift on the couch because his dick is straining his trousers. He can feel goosebumps trickling all over him, hairs standing on end. "Tell me, am I not good enough? You've been driving me wild ever since you came in my school..."

Louis swallows again, eyelids getting heavy as he pries them, his hands useless on either sides of him. "Harry..." He can't bring himself to push the boy off of him, feeling too good and turned on to do so. Harry lets their noses brush, fluttering his eyes close, hands clasped on Louis' shoulders.

Not a second too long now, Harry eventually settles on his lap, "Please, Lou..." he whispers, bum set against Louis' formed bulge, milky thighs straddling his hips, and looking down at him as he arches his back, so they are flushed from chest to their crouches. Louis' throat is dry, his heart rabbiting in his chest, hands aching to grab on Harry's meaty arse, wanting to knead at them.

He can't utter a single word, no sound coming out of his gaping mouth.

Once again from that point, their gazes lock. Not saying anything else anymore, Harry all but pulls at the hems of his sweater and lifts them up off his head, revealing his pink perky nipples right in front of Louis--those nipples that Louis has seen many times from his laptop--leaving just his boxers now. None of them is yet saying anything, even as Harry's let his sweater drop to the floor and he's practically half naked.

Harry looks down on him, soft curls following his movement, lips pouting and eyes glassy, attention all for Louis and Louis alone. "Hi," Harry manages to say, which, fuck. Louis can't do this anymore, he won't last too long.

Louis inwardly shudders when Harry exhales on his face again, the boy's obscene mouth opening just a fraction, teeth and tongue peeking.

Just as Harry's leaning down, hands going for cupping his face, Louis suddenly finds his voice. "You can't do this, Harry... you can't--"

And Harry is quick to counter, "Tell me to stop if really you don't want me to, Louis. I'm so sick of seeing you every day without having much control over you." They keep their eye-contact, both breaths held after Harry's little outburst. And until Harry murmurs again, eyes averting back and forth from Louis' eyes and down to his lips, "Otherwise...otherwise..."

And just--just. That's it. Fuck everything. Fuck all of it!

Louis, feeling brave with his muscles flexing and wild and fucking _horny_ in one swift movement, grabs hold of Harry's small waists, eliciting a soft squeak from the boy, Harry's legs instinctively closing around his hips, and flips the boy over and then to the side, flopping him down on the soft couch, with Louis now on top of him. Harry's first move is to reach out, hands cupping Louis' face, thumbs tracing his stubble jaw with such awing gaze.

No words are let out.

And Louis, having studied how truly beautiful Harry is, just surges down and crashes his lips harshly against Harry's owns, parting open his mouth and sticking out his tongue, urging for Harry to grant him in. The boy gasps out as he lets him, opening his mouth, body completely submitting, sighing as he goes all frail and pliant in Louis' arms and underneath him, their mouths moving passionately and languidly against each other.

Louis basks in the sweetness of Harry's mouth, plump lips thick as he bites and nips at them, his wet tongue sliding against Harry's own and sucking on it with an obscene pop, their teeth clinking as they ravish one another--like they're so, so hungry and craving for each other's lips, and this has been such a hardship to attain.

Heads shifting and positions of their mouths against each other changing, Harry suppresses a moan out of the sudden, the precious sound going straight to Louis' dick, his bulge going a lot more prominent. He has to pull away, leaving Harry breathless and panting, lips red and wet and fucking swollen. He looks so obscene and so beautiful like this, just like the wrecked looking twink that Louis has watched countless times at home, so open and subby and lustful. Louis blinks a few times, watching on and listening in as Harry's chest heave frantically between them.

Louis retrieves a hand, reaching over with his fingertips touching Harry's forehead, sliding down to his nose causing Harry to flutter his lashes, then tracing along his perfectly sculptured cupid's bow lips, Louis' palm cupping Harry's cheek. "Lou..." He breathes, flailing lanky arms reaching up again, hands closing around Louis' neck, urging to pull him down and puckering his lips for another kiss.

Louis grants it, only because Harry's lips are addicting, and that yes, he is already addicted to them. Louis' hands settle on Harry's waists, feeling up the boy's skin against his palms and, just, wow... Harry's skin is... his skin is so soft and warm. Smooth. Very smooth. Smells so good. Harry is sheer perfection.

Louis has nothing over him.

_Doesn't deserve him._

When they part away from kissing, soft lips letting each other go, Louis' fingers dangerously at a close proximity toward Harry's sensitive looking nipples, Louis finally, finally has the right amount of ability to say, his nose and lips just inches away from Harry's angelic face, "I should go." _Louis doesn't want to go._

Lips shutting, mouth forming into a frown, Harry looks at Louis like he's just hurt Harry so bad that he wanted to cry. _And Louis still doesn't want to go._

"Okay," comes Harry's soft croak, his voice sounding raspy and spent, making Louis harder in his pants. And Louis really, really doesn't want to go.

But then he stands, and he does.

He leaves Harry's flat and does go, not caring if it's still technically pouring outside, because he's probably just done the biggest mistake of his life and that nothing else can ever, ever top that.

That night before Louis goes to bed, he picks up his phone (ignoring Harry's texts for now, the memories and the taste of his lips still too raw against Louis' owns) and calls up the only available friend he has at the moment. Niall. The bloke answers after the third ring and, with the tiniest bit of restraints, Louis just all out cries to him over the phone, confesses all the sins he's committed over the past hours, saying he's almost fucked a student of his, although leaving the part where said student is also a camboy, and that he would probably just let himself be fucked by Louis. _Harry did present himself to Louis._

Niall, the good lad he is, soothes Louis and tells him he'll be fine, as long as no one knows and they both liked it--which, they did--and Louis is just. He's so, so fucking grateful for a Niall, so, so glad to have him as a friend.

"Damn right, you are," Niall says, laughing that signature laugh of his. Louis sniffs, laughing along too.

"Thank you, Nialler," he tells his friend, voice sounding fond. He at least feels a little bit better now.

"Nah, you're good, mate. Just remember, if you need help with anything, need to vent or any o'that, just always give us a call, yeah? Also, you gotta have some break, Lou! Let's grab some pints! Zayn misses your big sorry bum." Niall giggles.

Louis groans, "Oh yeah, I know, god. I miss you guys too. And I know we should catch up soon, it's been a long time! But hey, I should probably go for now though... Still got loads of stuff to get done." He sighs. "But I'll try this weekend, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure, Lou! Take your time, old man!"

"Fuck off, Niall, I'm not old enough..." Louis mutters in protest.

Niall laughs again. "Kidding, Lou! Anyway, don't let me keep you! Hang up the phone."

"Okay, okay. Thanks again, mate. Really do appreciate it... Say hello to Z for me."

"Will do! Bye, Lou! Love you!"

"Mhm. Love you too, Ni."

As he hangs up the phone, lowers the device right in front of him, he sees that strings of messages are keeping on coming, everything from just one person, all of them from Harry. Louis puts his phone away; he'll deal with him next time.

He'll deal with his furiously growing feelings for the beautiful boy next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW WAS IT?
> 
> you know what motivates a writer? FEEDBACK! LONG, MEANINGFUL COMMENTS ;) thank u for tuning in!


	8. i'm sorry but i fell in love tonight ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> louis is still maybe resisting...hmm.  
> gemma calls, so bro & sisterly bonding yayayay.  
> eleanor admits something.  
> harry admits something as well as he realizes it, to melly via skype.  
> harry fights for what he wants.

None of them talk about what went down at his flat that night, as expected since Louis is the type to go all sensible about certain things (which Harry thinks is cute and responsible, so adult of him), but Harry can tell something's changed in the air between them anyway. Like, despite Harry can also tell Louis has been dodging any and all references to what has happened with them that night as well.

It had been such a dream, however, having his professor stand barefooted in the middle of his living room, having him sit on one of his couches like a concerned and still half-sensible guardian, and having him see his place and compliment it. _Your place looks perfect, Harry._

Harry smiles, feeling butterflies fluttering in his tummy, just thinking about it.

Today Louis walked in the room when Harry was already there, sat next to Cara and Kendall, chewing on his bottom lip as he looked on. Unsurprisingly, Louis' first move was to tell the classroom that he was sorry for being late, because apparently he took care of a couple of students and put them under disciplinary action, for bullying a boy last night at some dark alley, he had said, something he'd caught on his way home. He and Harry shared a look of mutual understanding after that said, to which had Harry go all hot in the cheeks, and then it ended at that, Louis proceeding on to begin the class.

Throughout the day, Louis The Handsome Teacher That Harry Would Like To Be His Boyfriend So Bad had been the typical fun professor that he is; he was a lot hyper, always wheezing at jokes and even lecturing them about living in the moment and having not to worry about "adult stuff", saying they shouldn't worry about other people's love lives as well. Which, Harry almost snorted on that one, because _right._

The class ends shortly, and Harry has been itching for the entire homeroom to just empty of students already as he pretends to rummage through his rucksack just so he could have a purpose to stay where he is, while he lets his classmates disperse around the area. Melly, Kendall, Eleanor and Cara have made their way outside of the room minutes ago, since they know Harry would be staying behind, for whatever reason they probably already know.

As the last three students made the beeline for the exit, it is only then that Harry stands up from his chair and approaches Louis up the front and on his desk, slinging his bag on his shoulders. "Hey," Harry says softly, cautiously.

Louis looks up through his lashes and addresses Harry with a curt nod. "Hey, you." God he's so ungodly up close. Harry is so, so excited to kiss him now.

Harry clears his throat, willing the butterflies in his stomach to calm down just by being inches away from his professor, having a whiff of his somewhat manly cologne. "I was, uhm, wondering if we could ride the tube together again?"

Blinking at him, Louis' face crumbles and he frowns, eliciting a pang on Harry's chest in an instant, gesturing to the paperwork he's got scattered around his table. "Can't, Harry. Got loads of stuff to do before I had to go home... Sorry."

And, if he isn't so sincere sounding and looking right now--since like, he really does seem torn about not having to say yes to Harry's offer--Harry wouldn't have caved in without putting up much of a fight. As it is, he just then shrugs and mutters out, albeit with a silly pout, "Maybe tomorrow, then?" He opts for appearing hopeful, wishing it'll work.

"Tomorrow, yes," Louis says, nodding firmly. Harry beams.

"Okay!" At that, Louis is once again back to rearranging papers on his desk, sorting them and piling, and Harry just really, really needs to do something now before he leaves, just so Louis is aware he's never going back to just being nothing but a student to him. "Uh, Lou?"

At the sound of his nickname being used on him, Harry doesn't miss the part where Louis literally freezes visibly, hands clutching some papers gripping a little harder, his breathing short circuiting. He looks up at Harry. "Yes, Haz?"

Harry smiles, and fuck, there goes those silly fluttering butterflies in his warm and fuzzy tummy again, wriggling, flying around like crazy. _Louis just called him Haz. They're really doing this._ Leaning in, palms over the papers on Louis' desk, Harry aims on Louis' cheek and presses a soft kiss against it, feeling Louis' scruff across his upper and bottom lips, sending a wonderful tingly feeling to his heart and, frankly, dick. (Because how hot could it be to have a very adult boyfriend with the whole beard and scruff thing going on for them, right?). Parting away just a bit, Harry averts his gaze toward Louis' owns and they have a short eye-to-eye contact, breaths held and lids unblinking, before Louis is sidling his face a little so their lips are leveled, and then he's leaning in and kissing Harry properly.

Unlike when they first did it on Harry's couch, which had been quite frantic and messy, tongues and teeth colliding, this time it's rather soft and unhurried, sweet and, dare Harry say, _loving_ , like they're proper boyfriends and stuff like that. It actually pains Harry not being able to cup Louis' face, because that would send him toppling over the desk if so, seeing as he's balancing with his hands over the platform. They pull away moments later, before Harry can even open his mouth for a full-on snogging, making him feel a tad unsatisfied. Although he supposes he'll take whatever he can get; he's not one to complain.

"Take care, Lou. I... I'll get going now," he murmurs as he backs up a little, blinking dazedly at Louis.

Nodding just slightly, Louis murmurs back, "You too, Haz. Don't let guys corner you at an alley again, or I won't know what I'll do to them this time." And then they are smiling at each other again, Harry's heart growing ten times big. "Bye, angel."

"Bye," Harry whispers, sure that his dimples are prominent on each his cheeks. He lowkey hopes Louis is charmed by them.

♡♡♡♡

Today is a Saturday and Harry hasn't uploaded another video on his account at paypercome.com yet. Well, not a recently recorded one anyway, but just something he's pulled out of his old ones and created a whole sort of montage and or compilation, to give his viewers something instead of nothing at all.

He's been receiving quite a few numbers of demands in his Camboy Email for almost three consecutive days now, the majority of the contents being his subs requesting (or really, _begging_ ) for recent clicks, because apparently they know whether a video is fresh or just a scrounged up one. Which sucks, if Harry's being honest because that means he's caught, and if in theory he's being cheeky in the least, a tad bit flattered anyhow because wow, doesn't he just have the most dedicated and loyal and devoted subscribers, memorizing every bit of him.

Anyway, Harry still isn't gonna let up; his subs just have to stick to what Harry has on the table for them for now. He's not in the right mood to fuck himself with any dildos at the moment, see, his heart and mind both playing footsie with the most attractive man he's ever met in his seventeen years, Mr. Louis Tomlinson, his priorities only focused on him. Harry's eyes and brain and dreams are just too occupied with the man's everything that he hasn't the heart to sell his body and dick online--that he rather he'd daydream about being kissed and cuddled by Mr. Tommo any day than to feed a stranger's sexual desires, as well as he would mostly rather just imagine himself walking down the aisle to get married with his teacher, than doing just anything at all.

_He's in too deep for him, can you blame him?_

"How are you, sis?" Harry asks, as soon as Gemma's returned to her phone and heaving a satisfied sigh. It's been moments since they've connected, and Gemma's only excused herself to get comfortable in her bed, since she's now in her pyjamas and socks. It's around eight in the evening now anyway and Harry is aware Gemma's the early sleeper, even when they were kids and living in their parents' home back in Holmes Chapel.

"I'm fine, just--tired is all. Had to serve what seemed like the whole town today at the salon I have as a part time. And then I had to run my application for the job I've been telling you about."

"Oh? You mean the tour guide one?" Harry quips, stretching his toes out as he lies on his back against the pillows, his head going for the headboard of his bed. He's done with everything for tonight, has brushed his teeth after dinner--which contained just a last minute prepared salad with his favourite dressing and some carrot juice for his skin to be as rosy as it can be--and has already sent Melissa and Eleanor home, after their movie marathon that late afternoon. Now he's ready for bed, just that he's had to call his sister for some catching up, with Kendall and Cara occupying the guest room in his flat.

"Yeah, that's the one. I just thought I'd give it a go, since they're hiring and the pay is grand."

"Ah, that's good then. Surely, Nan approved of you traveling for long enough that she'll miss cooking you your favourite rhubarb pies?" Harry asks, feeling his own fond radiating through him and his voice alike, missing his Nan and his sister's homey presence.

Gemma chuckles. "Oh you wouldn't believe how thrilled she was when she found out I'm finally going for something I somewhat, partially, enjoy. Think she's sick of seeing me stepping a foot in her threshold lookin' like death after a shift at the salon."

"Can only imagine," replies Harry with a nod he knows Gemma won't see but feel nonetheless anyway.

Time passes as he and his sister carry on with the catching up; about stuff. Like Gemma's studies and her upcoming graduation in late March next year, Harry's own studies and how he's lately got a high exams result, their Nan's medications and other therapy appointments, the lot. Truth be told, Harry is very proud of Gemma--it's been a while, she's working while she's studying, supporting herself instead of letting their guardian shoulder everything else, and now, she's almost graduating. She's always been a straight A's student, has proved herself time and time since, and perhaps from her is where Harry inherited his inborn skills academically. He loves studying himself, Harry, despite of what he does in terms of having the kind of job he has. Because that's really not where you can measure how one is smart or not, right? His camboying has none at all to do with his level of IQ; if any, choosing being a camboy is the smartest move if you want easy money. Harry has never had any trouble with paying his tuition fee and flat bills ever since he'd tried filming himself riding a black dildo, all young and fresh and only _fifteen_ , uploading it online afterwards, and then a day later checking his bank account already flooded with zeroes after a blinding eight.

But Gemma doesn't need to know that though, of course. Because aside from his girl friends here in Winchester, no one knows about his camboying life anymore. He needn't his sister nor his grandma screaming at his ears at all. He just has to be more careful.

Throughout their little talk, Cara and Kendall from the other room apparently decided to themselves to become the bunch of minx that they are and start being rather loud; he can make out of Kendall's shivery exhales (while Cara probably goes down on her). Harry has to kick the wall to hush them. "Sorry, Gems, that was--fuck. Kendall and Cara are in the guest room."

Lucky for him, Gemma is fond of his friends from here. She only laughs as retaliation, knows already what the two must be doing; after all, Gemma has her fair share of getting off with other girls too since she's bi herself, even called it 'best sex ever', something Harry definitely would call T-M-I, because fuck it if he'd ever want to imagine his sister getting fingered by some faceless girl. "I see. Tell them I said Hi."

"Oi, rabbits! Gems says Hi!" Harry calls, kicking at the wall again just to really get their attention, because they could be up in subspace, Harry wouldn't and would never ever want to know. The reply comes shortly, and it was from Cara, _moaning Hello_ back. Harry groans, grimacing as he covers his eyes with his forearm. "Ugh. They're so embarrassing, I'm so sorry."

Gemma only giggles. "Anyway," she chirps, about changing the topic, "tell me, Haz. Why did you really call? It's so not you to just randomly call without even telling me a day before you go out your way." _Uh-oh. She finally noticed._ Gemma hums. "Be honest now. Have you met someone?"

And, right, Harry blushes just as the question's been thrown, the word 'someone' giving him instant fireworks displays and explosions in his tummy, the image of Louis from Thursday after he's kissed him, those pink and shiny wet thin lips flashing before his eyes. _He's so gorgeous all the time, even in Harry's imaginative mind._ "Actually..." He begins with, and then he's finally tellng her about his 'super hot and funny and nice professor'.

"And super old, too, Haz. Jesus. What's he like, forty-five of some sorts?" Gemma asks, slightly sounding apprehensive, but leaning more towards concerned. "Please tell me you didn't sleep with him. Because I know you--you tend to like men _thrice_ your age, something I'll never understand, probably--but that is not the point." She sighs.

"Calm-- calm down, Gems," Harry stutters, pouting, feeling his cheeks numbing because of so much heat, "Louis is-- he's not forty-five, alright? He's like, only twenty-nine. And no, I haven't, I mean, I didn't sleep with him--"

"Yet, you wanted to add on that 'haven't'?" Gemma sounds thoroughly unimpressed. Harry's heart beats frantically in his chest, the fear of his sister disapproving of the first ever man he'd want to give the opportunity to have his virginity taken away, nagging at him. "So it's Louis then? You mean, Louis with a silent 'S'?"

"Yes..." mumbles Harry, blushing at the fact he didn't deny the not yet sleeping with Louis part.

"With the way you're sounding right now, H, I can easily tell this Louis guy has had you wrapped around their finger. Am I correct? I've heard you talk about other guys you fancied before, but I must say this is the first time you actually wanted to hear my say or approval of 'em." Harry bites his lip, just listening to his sister talk. And she proceeds, much to his predicaments, "Listen, Haz. If what you say is literal, that he's your teacher and that he's, Jesus, _twelve years_ older than you, then I need you to at least be subtle as heck, yeah? I dunno what I'm saying now either, because honestly? I wouldn't want to be the tolerating big sister, considering... considering this is such a risky situation. But if--if this man seriously means some to you, then I suppose I'll still be the best family member and give you my blessing. Or whatever. Just in case that's what you need to hear from me." She pauses, takes a deep breath--Harry can feel through the line--and then adds as an afterthought, "Just. Again, be discreet, yeah? If you... you know... don't want poor Louis to end up behind bars."

Swallowing hard, just having pictured a Louis Tomlinson standing inside some dark and scary and _ugly_ prison, Harry nods like the natural submissive he is by blood and exhales his affirmations, cheeks hot, "Yes, Gems. God, I--thank you so much. This--," he chokes out, now, feeling himself getting emotional for some odd reason, "this means loads to me, you have no idea. I've been--like, I've been pining for Lou for quite some time now. Or well, since he began teaching English in SBA, and I'm just. I think... I think I'm in love with him, you know? Dunno... Can't say for sure yet, but. Yeah... just, thank you, Gemma. Really needed those words coming from you." Biting his lip, Harry whispers, "But you trust me, right? I'll be very discreet, promise. I can contain it anyway... I mean, despite sometimes it's getting so hard. So hard not to just jump him when he's looking so handsome and--sorry for the terming-- _edible_."

Gemma chuckles, lighthearted and entertained. Harry's worries from earlier, at this point, completely vanish away. "How hot is he from the scale of one to ten?"

Harry whimpers, he can't help it. "Ten out of ten, Gems, you've no idea. He's just exactly my type, you know? From his humorous and bubbly personality to his hot as fuck physical appearance. Especially when he's coming in class looking fuck-all dishevelled, beard and manly scruff on his face, voice high yet raspy. Like straight outta some kama sutra, _honestly_. Five feet, nine inches of super hottie professor temptress. Everyone at school literally drools over him, but he doesn't know though, I don't think. Probably. Or maybe he's just being modest about it, not letting it show how flattered he actually is."

"Well, you already said it yourself, didn't you? That he's a nice lad. Perhaps he's being humble," Gemma reasons.

Harry hums, scratching at his chin. Kendall has let out another moan from the other room again, but this time he doesn't complain, brain too occupied with LouisLouisLouis. "Think you might be right, sis," he says then, quite sounding dreamy. Gemma snorts.

Moments fly while Harry and Gemma talk a bit more about Louis, with Harry skipping the details of him already in the level of having access of kissing Louis when nobody is around, and then they're eventually hanging up by the time they're both suppressing yawns of tiredness and sleepiness. Like twins, pretty much--like old times. Harry smiles as he looks at his heated up phone, scrolling through his conversations in his inbox. He locates Louis', and then he's typing up a message.

**_Goodnight, Lou :) xxx_ **

Louis' reply comes seconds short, as if he's been waiting. Harry's heart skips a beat just thinking about the huge probability of it.

**_Goodnight, angel ! :) x_ **

♡♡♡♡

Harry the next day wakes up to a series of texts and missed calls from Eleanor. He ignores them first in favor of a satisfying stretch and a yawn, like a cat (this is why Gems has always referred to him as a part cat), and then he lands his socked feet on the ground. He pads across the room and switches the AC off, letting the air coming from it fade, and then he makes his way over to the loo for a morning pee while his eyelids are still heavy and thick. He brushes his teeth too after some time, and then he's off to the kitchen with his cellphone for some breakfast.

Cara and Kendall are lounging about by the living room, Harry sees on his way to the divider bar, the blonde one by her front sprawled across the couch and still snoring, and the jet-black haired one rifling through her bag and applying makeup to her face as she spots a few beautifying items. She wiggles her brows at Harry when she notices him pass.

"Morning, Hazza!" She calls from her Indian sit position on the white furry carpet.

"Morning!" Answers Harry. He opens up the fridge to look for something he can scrounge up to serve as his breakfast; whatever they are though, they have to be organic or healthy. "You guys going already?"

"Yeah, need to come home early. Mom's been talking it out with my sister since this morning. Think she's finally enrolling Kylie in our school next term."

"Oh?" Harry quips, finally grabbing some cabbage, a piece of carrot, and the cheese he's stocked. He grabs at the dressing and then starts chopping the veggies. He makes himself some salad in no time, and then he just fishes out some spoon now and emerges back from the kitchen to join his friends by the living area. "Is Kylie okay with that?" He asks as he flops down on the single couch, putting his feet up and setting the bowl on his knees.

"She is, I think? I don't know yet, but that's why I'm goin' home." Kendall finishes up with her makeup, and once she's putting back all her stuff in her kit, Cara is rising from her position and is tying her hair up in a high ponytail. Harry watches absently as his friends share a soft and lingering kiss right in front of him, still mostly half awake.

"Hey, H," Cara acknowledges him after a while.

"Hey, babe. Good sleep?" Harry asks.

"Yeah," Cara says, stretching and letting her back pop some bones in there as she arches to her full height. "Well, we best be going now. Have to drop by to Tom's. Gonna get tattooed, and 'm so excited!" She cheers happily, and _ah_ , Harry thinks, _his quirky friend has totally awaken now._

Harry waves them goodbye as he too gets up from the couch, breakfast all shoveled down, his cellphone still buzzing in his hand. Eleanor's texts and missed calls are yet unanswered, he reminds himself mentally.

Chugging down an entire water bottle, Harry goes back to his room after he's learned that Eleanor wants for them to go to the supermarket today, the reason for her mobile flooding. To shop for some stuff she needs in her kitchen, since she's apparently ran out of things now. Harry moves around his room in double-time with that, showering quick and getting into something fashionable yet comfortable (some cream jumper and black leggings for his 'endless legs' as Cara would tend to say, very envious of them) and then he's out the door in seconds flat, taking his phone, wallet and keys with him, and also bringing an elastic band just in case today is a bad hair day for him, leaving out the beanie for now.

Harry makes it to the nearest supermarket in town after minutes of waiting inside the tube, and Eleanor is already there when he meets with the cold conditioned storey building, wearing something almost identical to his--except hers is a blue jumper with a raindeer wearing a Santa hat embroidered by sequences on it, and then a black leggings as her bottoms. They're both wearing fashionable boots, making them giggle to themselves, The Freaks.

"Okay, let's do this," Eleanor says, mocking determined, as they approach the entrance of the market.

Harry's taken the role of pushing the cart, just following his friend around, whereas Eleanor has been up for the challenge of throwing things she needs in it, and they've been doing this for almost half an hour now.

Eleanor choosing between a banana flavored ketchup one and a tomato flavored one has taken them a bit of time to stay in just one aisle, with Harry playing Candy Crush in his phone, and Eleanor tilting her head in wonder. Finally deciding on tomato flavor, Harry pockets his phone again and then they're back to strolling. As they do so, Harry has decided to have a mindless chat about school projects, curriculums, family and until they make it to the talk about their jobs.

"Stressful," Eleanor comments, and Harry can in every level feel her. It's been stressing him for a while now as well, despite the awfully immense pay, because of... well, _Louis._

"Yeah, it is, isn't it," he mumbles out, looking down at the lemons and apples in the cart. He can feel Eleanor eying him from his right, and he can tell there's something she wants to confront him with, so he waits.

And then it comes. "You know, I've noticed you haven't uploaded a recent video yet, since..." She trails off, probably not wanting to pry as much unless given the go signal.

Harry indulges her then. "Ever since we started texting, yes, I-- I haven't, no."

Eleanor nods, sighing. "I figured. By chance, is it getting, like... serious on your part?"

Knows exactly it's Louis she's referring to, Harry at this perks up, and their eyes meet for the first time since they've began the talk about their line of works, something that both of them aren't much proud of. Harry can feel his skin crawling, his cheeks heating up, and then the next thing he knows is he's fumbling with his words, "Y-yeah, I mean. Maybe? Dunno... I just, like, think that... I..."

Startlingly, Eleanor who is very much careless about Harry's growing feelings for their teacher, Eleanor who is always tight lipped about his crushing towards Louis, unlike their others friends that is, and Eleanor who is usually laid back and wouldn't for the life of her waste her time dropping her two cents regarding someone else's love affair situation, breaks into a soft smile and tells him, quite solemnly more so, "I understand, Haz. You really fell hard for this one, I know... I get it, because--," she shrugs, her cheeks coloring (another startling thing), and then, "--I kinda had the same, once upon a time, so."

And, oh. This is...news. Sure, Harry has known Eleanor for years now, she was even the reason Harry knew about camboying since she'd camgirled longer than him, but never has she ever opened up about such thing. Why she only does it now, Harry hasn't an iota, but alas he's kinda curious now and is itching just a little bit to find out. "Yeah?" He breathes out, and he refuses to tear his gaze away from her at this point, trying to get a message across that he's all ears for more.

Eleanor nods, picking up a carton of milk from a shelve. "Yep," she says, popping the p. And then she and Harry are walking again, turning a corner until they get to the toiletry aisle. "I never told, Haz, but I used to have someone just like your Louis. Name was Max... Max Hurd. And like, we sort of dated behind everyone's back. Not because he was ashamed of me, right, because he wasn't--quite the opposite actually. It was because of me, I was the one who insisted we didn't tell a soul about our sort-of relationship."

 _Seriously?_ "Why?"

Eleanor sighs, and then bites her lip. "Because, I... I was ashamed of myself, Haz." She looks up, stopping on her tracks alongside Harry. "I couldn't take it. Couldn't take seeing his beautiful smile, hearing his perfect laughter... listening to him ramble about his dreams for the both of us." Hugging herself, Eleanor, Harry has the sudden urge to drop the cart handle just so he can get to her side fast enough. He refrains. "Every time he would tell about his plans for the future...with me... my heart broke pieces by pieces. Because I know there isn't. There's just... there's no future with someone like me."

"Eleanor--"

She shakes her head at him, shutting her eyes. "Every time he would look at me, Harry. Every time he would touch me and say my name, completely oblivious to the ugly fact that I let men and guys I owe money from watch me fuck myself with a fake plastic dick on cam... I fucking die. I fucking choke on my own spit, Haz." Harry watches as Eleanor swallows a huge lump, and Harry almost does the same, feeling goosebumps trickling all over his neck.

"What... what happened then, El?" Harry whispers.

Sniffing, Eleanor shrugs. " Well, he... he found out. I was just about to close my account, see, I was just--I was almost there, H. But I wasn't quick enough to act on it, apparently. His friends saw us out on a date one morning back in the summer, even on our fucking 9th month, and that had been it. His friends recognized me--they wanted an autograph, the reason they came up to our table, and--and they saw Max and they were... They patted him on the back and I--," Eleanor chokes, and it's then that Harry rushes to her side, holding her as she begins to finally, finally tear up, "--they told him how unlucky he was that he was dating someone the five of them had been jacking off to for the past seven months. Even up to this day, I can still see the look on Max's face when he heard all that. And... and, fuck, his face... the torn look on his face." She hiccups, and Harry has to thumb on a stray tear across her reddened cheek, "He'd gone from confused to angry in seconds flat... He looked at me, and then he asked what his friends were talking about."

"Oh, _babe_..." Harry whispers around a frown, rubbing gently on Eleanor's back and squeezing at her arm.

Eleanor lets her tears fall freely as she shakes her head. "I told him the truth, and... he..."

"Sshh, sshh," Harry soothes, "you don't have to continue your story anymore, babe, please. This is making you--"

"No, Haz, it's-- it's fine, I'm fine, just. I feel like I owe this to you. I feel like you need to know. Besides, this is all my fault, innit. I led you into this... this shit job, and--"

"Why?" Harry cuts in, even though he has a hunch he already knows exactly why. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I can tell you're falling for the teacher and fast," Eleanor easily says, wiping at her eyes. "I can tell you want him and that he wants you back. I just want you to act quick and learn from my mistakes from the past; for you to not end up where I did. For the sake of your happy ending." Harry's heart beats frantically in his chest, hearing all these from Eleanor herself. She eases a little and puts a hand on Harry's shoulder. She's done crying now, and Harry recognizes this sane version of Eleanor. "Just... a piece of advise, Harry. If you plan on keeping him for long despite you're both yet working on it due to your relationship as teacher and student, put cleaning your account off PPC to consideration. Put an end to it all, yeah? Don't risk it. You can always work your ass off by applying to doing dirty jobs in kitchen of random diners or scrubbing floors in bakeries for all I care, but never ever risk getting into a relationship without completely separating yourself from being a camboy." She huffs. "Trust me on this."

"I... I always trust you, El," Harry says earnestly, cheeks hot and heart melting. "Always will, and I-- I just want you to know that I'm so, so...thankful. Grateful for your bravery to tell me all these, and for even bringing up your... past."

"My ugly past," Eleanor corrects. "No problem, Haz. I was the reason you're a camboy now anyway, and--"

"No, El. Stop blaming yourself. We both know I'm only thinking of backing out now because of Louis. That if he hadn't come along, I wouldn't have probably thought of serving pastries in a bakery near my flat."

"So that's your plan?" Eleanor asks, reaching out on a carton of grape juice. The subject has officially changed now, Harry's pretty much aware, knowing how Eleanor roll.

Harry nods. "Most ideal one, the least hassle as well. Besides, I've always considered becoming a baker if I weren't making money out of being one of the highest paid members on PPC."

"I see. Sweet then, I'm sure you'll rock it," Eleanor puts in.

"Rock what? Serving French and Spanish breads?" Harry teases, the tension just now completely subsiding.

Eleanor raises a brow. "No, Captain Obvious. Maybe serving limbs and chopped heads. I'm sure I would."

Harry laughs, feeling fuzzy now that his friend and her dry sarcasm are back. "Touché."

♡♡♡♡

When Harry returns home later, he thinks about what Eleanor said. He stares at his laptop and his account, cringing at the thumbnails of his every video as he scrolls down, especially the kinky words he put on his Bio.

He sighs as he looks down at his phone, lifting it up and starting to scroll through his contacts list, looking for a certain someone's name in it. Due to putting himself and Louis under safety and against prying eyes, Harry has already listed Louis as _The Epitome of Sun_ in his contacts, as correspondent to Louis' teasing to him saying he's The Lamb of God. Harry can after all humor himself sometimes. Basically.

Has spotted said entry, his thumb hovers over Louis' number, together with the call button. He bites on his lip, squinting his left eye shut, and...

Harry can't do it. He just can't. What will he say to him anyway? _Oh, hi, hello, Louis. So, guess what, I'm finally ready to divulge you to the truths about what kind of job I really have, the reason why I come to school late, the like. It's... drum roll please. Dun, dun, dun! Camboying! What's that, Louis? Oh, you don't know what camboying is? Okay, I'll tell you the logistics, mechanism and all that jazz. It's the kind where you fuck yourself with something, right, perhaps your finger, or maybe some dildo or vibrator if you wanted something close to real, while you film yourself. See, that's the magic of it. After that you upload them, and then you gain a lot. Like, a fuckton. Or if you're a total whore and could take seeing what people have to say about you doing those things to your arsehole, there is what we call livecams. Yeah... their comments will pop up and will keep on coming, some praising and some calling you slut shaming names, getting off on you getting off. That, Lou, is my job. How's that sound? Oh, is that right? You don't wanna see my face again? Whaaaaat, whyyyyy._

In the end, Harry just puts his phone down, unlocking it as he heaves out a long and suffering sigh, feeling his eye twitching with the scenario he's imagined in his head. He can't tell Louis about him being a camboy, fuck. If this is wrong timing, his fate might just become similar to what happened with Eleanor and Max... which, Harry can't let that happen. He likes Louis so much, he can't lose him. Not now, not ever. He wants him. Or maybe he loves him quite already, Harry hasn't given that much thought, and just. Ugh. No... Harry puts his phone as far away as possible and just decides to Skype with Melly. He sees she's online. Good.

Harry hugs his knees and waits until she picks up his video call. And until she does, her face appearing on a window before his laptop screen. "Babe," he croaks. _He croaked? Already? God, he's the perfect definition of a crybaby._

Melissa frowns. "Oh, Haz..."

"I'm having a crisis, M. Need your opinion on something."

"What is it, babe?" She asks, tying her hair up in a bun as she straightens up, seemingly readying herself for whatever Harry's about to throw at her.

Harry blows out a sigh as he says, "It's about Lou..."

At that, Melly raises both her eyebrows, and concern can be recognized easily across her face from there. "Whoa. What about him? Something happened?"

"Well, like, not exactly with him but, I was out with El today, right, and... she told me about her experience with a guy... and it didn't work out, because..." Harry trails off as he breathes shakily, feeling quite a traitor for telling a story that isn't for him to tell. But like, this is Melly though and, it's not like he'll mention names anyway--

"Oh, Max."

Wait, what?

"You knew him?" Harry blinks at her, mouth formed into an O.

Melly shrugs, and she starts to inform him, "El told me about him from way back, you aren't being invasive just so you know." _Oh, good. Good._ "Remember when we were in Year Ten and she showed up looking so happy all the time?" Harry nods at this, recalling. Melly nods too, and she continues, "Well, I think that was the time they were dating. But then one day she lost all enthusiasm and isolated herself from the group and I just found out she ended it with this guy named Max. We never met Max, but El slipped to me on one point, so... She really did hide it to all of us, you know, so you're not the only one."

"Ah... well, it was about Max finding out about her camgirling."

She licks her lips as she positions her webcam, eyebrows furrowing. "Uhm. Yes, H. That was the reason why they cut ties..." Melly says sadly, and then she fixes Harry a look, finally understanding. "So like, you're bringing this up because you're afraid that if Mr. Tommo finds out, he'll also, like, perhaps distance himself from you."

"When you say it like that..." Harry mumbles, pouting, feeling his heart sinking a tad. "But yeah, exactly. And I don't want that, M. I lo-- I _think_ I love him." Hearing that, Melly's eyes widen. And then it's Harry's eyes that widen next. Then, "Fuck."

"Oh shit, Haz..." She covers her mouth, looking at Harry with such big, big eyes, shocked.

"I fucking love him," Harry whispers as though only realizing now, feeling his heart tugging like mad, butterflies fluttering wildly in his stomach. He sees stars, he sees sparks fly, he pictures clouds making way for the sun. The sun that is Louis, angels appearing and singing hallelujah from behind him, church bells sounding. And, " _Fuck_ ," he hisses once again.

Melly bites her lip. "Maybe you should just... find another job, H. And I don't mean this in a bad way, yeah? Just, if you want things to get better and better with the teacher... that's what I suggest you do."

Harry gulps, he's got loads to work on if he needs his name and identity fully and all out cleaned. "That's what Eleanor said too, actually."

"Is that so? Then maybe you should follow her advice..." She shrugs again, tilting her head sideways.

Harry mimics her for no apparent reason. "Mhmm... Yeah." _Probably._

♡♡♡♡

It's finally a Monday and Harry's still getting flooded by PPC emails and requests all coming from his subs. There are some who are downright sweet, being calm and understanding, even saying he should take his time to record a recent one, but then there are the ones who just keep on calling him all sorts of slutty subby names as well, those that're still having the nerve to force a new video out of him, saying they _fucking paid for that._

His bank account digits are just increasing by the day, Harry also notices as he checks online, but he chooses to ignore all of that and just anything that has to do with camboying and goes to school instead. In time.

He gets to see Louis without his glasses this lovely morning, wearing some white tee underneath and some blue denim jacket that's folded at the sleeves, matching those with black--looking like some painted-on--jeans. He looks younger than his age, and Harry thinks he'll need to think about the ugliest, most ridiculous thing that could ever exist, just so he doesn't form a damn semi right here and now. Louis is turning him on just by standing in front and telling the story of fucking _Beowulf_ , fuck.

Harry wants to text him, but then he thinks about what Gemma said about subtlety, and he's just backing out altogether. Maybe he'll deal with him later...

At lunch time, Harry and 'the girl gang' (what Mr. Grimshaw has always addressed them as a whole as) make their way on the hallways and some guys walk next to them, slapping Harry's bum in the process, with laughter echoing in the air where they are. "Such softy arse!" Charles Hens teases.

"Fuck off." Harry flips them off, and Cara trips one of them with her foot, sending a couple of them tumbling down.

Kendall and Eleanor reach out and smack them across their skulls. "Ow!"

"Bloody pervs," Melissa next to Harry mutters out.

They go to get food by the cafeteria, standing in line with their other schoolmates once they get there, waiting for their turn as they face each other by the counter. Cara is saying something extra weird and funny to all of them, and Kendall is announcing she's gonna call Kylie, when Harry looks over to scan the place, and then sees the one person he wants to see--it's Louis who's peering up through the crowd of kids, seemingly looking for a co-teacher or perhaps a canteen staff, his eyes eventually landing on Harry as well after a while. Harry watches as the corners of his lips curve slowly...slowly upwards, and until he's smiling shyly, the both of them sharing some sort of private smiles to each other.

Harry looks down afterwards, after Louis has gone, smiling on the ground as he feels all warm and giddy with happiness. Things Mr. Louis Tomlinson do to him, really. Harry can only imagine his eyes must be producing sparkly hearts now.

As per usual, the five of them pile to go out the cafeteria and the school building altogether, to get to their usual spot from under the tree. Surely as they walk their way over there, Harry still get cat calls and so do the girls; and it still happens as they settle to sit. "Hit me up when you're not living under your parents' roof anymore, twat!" It's Eleanor who shouts, playing with the apple she took from Cara's tray.

The reply comes shortly, loud and condescendingly teasing, "Uhuh! Love you too, Calder!"

"Morons..." Melissa mutters again, unscrewing the cap of her bottled water. Harry beside her giggles, getting comfortable with his spot which is also next to Kendall. He can't seem to stress a thing when he and Louis have just shared a smile ten minutes ago, not when he's the happiest boy on earth as of the moment, no. He's just so...maybe whipped. With Louis. Whatever. Harry loves it. So.

His eyes look over the grass field, spotting his classmates and some familiar faces he doesn't speak to, and as though he's still dreaming he sees Louis gazing at him by the corridors. _Again, he sees him looking back at him. Wow, so much progress._ Carefully now, he lifts a hand up and waves, grinning at his teacher standing there with a mug. Louis only smiles at him, and then he's turning a corner to go upstairs.

Melissa nudges him. "Seems like he really likes you back, H." Oh, she saw.

"Yeah..." Harry breathes, and since he can't stop himself, he adds like it's no big deal, like he's told her this countless times, "we kiss, actually."

"You do?" Melly gasps. At this, Cara and Kendall scoot closer. Eleanor stays at where she is, just gazing up at the afternoon skies.

Harry feels his cheeks burn instantaneously, just by remembering Louis' lips against his own. Fingers come up to touch his tingling lips as he says, "Uh, sorry I forgot to gossip. I wasn't like, actually planning to, but yes. We kissed, like, thrice already."

"Thrice," Cara gushes, laughing hysterically loudly before shaking Harry's arm, "you fucking snogged the professor three fucking times. Holy shit, Haz." Harry bites his lip, feeling himself dimpling like a schoolgirl loon.

"And?" Melly asks eagerly just as Kendall wants to know if, "Was he good?"

Eleanor from behind them cocks a brow and shoots Harry a look, as though waiting for him to spill.

Harry blushes harder now, his face turning numb as ever, remembering this time how Louis had flipped him over the couch in just one arm snaked around his waist like it's the narrowest thing he could wrap his arm to, like he has some super strength, and had had him like a trapped or pinned bunny under his heated dark gaze and sex driven aura with supposed pure lustful intentions. Harry squeaks out, "He's an excellent kisser... and smells so good too, fresh breath and all."

"Fuck," Cara exhales, smiling widely, "you're so lucky, Haz. You know how half the school crave for him, right? Are you happy?"

Harry nods, too earnest. Too happy, too alive. "I am... so happy." He smiles, butterflies in his stomach fluttering like heck again. His friends smile fondly at him, and even Eleanor is smiling on her lap as she hums some kind of tune under her breath. Harry feels like he's winning.

♡♡♡♡

Harry keeps on texting Louis while in P.E.. Miss Watson has been telling them instructions ever since they went out of the lockers and had changed into their P.E. uniforms--some white shirt with the letters P and E on their back, and some navy blue shirt, identical to their SBA blazer and trousers and skirts--but Harry couldn't careless about whatever she is saying, and until she whips a football out, and some kind of game just starts.

Harry isn't deterred.

**_Where are you ?_ **

**_In P.E., we're out in the field. How about you? [][]x_ **

**_In the faculty. Pay attention in PE, Harold !_ **

**_I am! I'm just being sneaky. Want to text you... xx[][][]_ **

**_If Caroline catches you ..._ **

Harry stares back at the message, and he thinks he knows what Louis means by this. **_Uhm, don't worry, Lou. Didn't save your name in my contacts like that... just in case._**

**_Why would you do that ?_ **

**_Because you don't want anyone to know about us, right?_** It hurts, typing it out like that.

But nothing probably hurts more than seeing this reply: **_And what about us ?_**

Harry's stomach turns and his heart drops ten miles, his lungs suddenly, painfully closing in. What is Louis playing at? Taking a sharp breath, Harry composes another reply, thinking that if Louis isn't going to do anything about them, then he will, **_Do you really want to know? Later, meet me after class at 2D._**

**_What ? Why ?_ **

**_Just do it. I got to go._ **

**_Okay._ **

Truthfully, Harry really doesn't know what he's about to do, is just feeling but a tad desperate to have Louis all to himself now, but. See, Louis has been keeping him at the edge of his seat. He is like, leading Harry on or something here... Like, he can't seem to grasp the fact that they're kinda dating now, always beating around the bush, and it's killing Harry to know that he's the only one who wants this to like, be serious and stuff. Them. Together. And so he's doing it. He'll show Louis what he'll be missing if he won't give them a shot. But that would be for later.

He's in class now and Louis is teaching. Harry on his seat keeps on flirting with Sam (his safest choice), but only in the hopes of riling Louis up of course. And well, by the stiffness Louis is appearing to be while he discusses upfront makes Harry feel quite triumphant about everything. Harry receives a text from Louis once the man has excused himself to go use the loo, **_Harry, I thought you're already staying away from these boys ? What the hell ?_** Harry ignores it, continues to play footsie with Sam under the desk once Louis has returned storming in minutes later without a reply from Harry and, and boy is the result just fucking fantastic, "Mr. Styles and Mr. Anderson, you might want to give respects to the classroom?" Louis snaps--he snaps, and Harry can see the outline of his dick straining hard in between his thighs. Thank heavens for letting Louis wear paint-on jeans today, because now Harry knows just what is Louis' weakness.

In the end Sam says sorry, but Harry only smirks over to Cara and Kendall two seats down, the two returning it with shared knowing looks.

The class ends a little bit later, and Harry soldiers toward the exit, ignoring the blatant look Louis is directing at him on his way, the point-blank attention burning a hole on his back. He calls up Melissa as he climbs up two floors and tells her he's not coming with them at English Caffeine tonight and that he's still got the Operation: Steal Mr. Louis Tomlinson's Heart ongoing, to which she understands, just wishes him luck.

Harry takes a deep breath and stops in front of 2D. It's the only abandoned classroom of St. Bridget's Academy, one to be rumored where some girl hanged herself in, and Harry has always used it when he wants to be alone or if he hasn't the strength to attend classes, sleeping in there. He doesn't give two shits about ghosts when he's tired, okay. Being a camboy just takes its toll on you most times.

Anyway, this is just the perfect place to corner someone, really, he thinks as he pushes the doors open. He steps inside, taking in the image of the serene and quite frankly, creepy room, a bit dimmed now because of the sun setting outside, silhouetted spots creating some type of a dreamy aura (like out of some Japanese anime cartoon scene), and then takes a seat on one of the stocked chairs by one corner; from that point, he waits.

♡♡♡♡

Ten minutes (or so) in, there are the sounds of footsteps echoing by the hallways finally, and then Louis' voice cutting through the silence and calling out his name, "Harry?"

Harry watches as the single door by the front opens slowly, his heart beating erratically in his chest, and then Louis is strolling inside all the sudden, quite hesitant at first, but then his eyes land on Harry and he's loosening a bit all at once. Good.

"Hey," Harry says, voice marginally small.

Louis stands there, a bit fidgety if Harry does say so himself. "Hey. What's this, Harry?" _Straight to the question. Harry likes it. It kinda turns him on._

Standing up from his chair, Harry walks toward Louis--Louis who isn't backing away, just like Harry would've predicted if this was back from week ago when he was still totally dodging any and all circumstances between them. "This?" He breathes out, his voice soft but nevertheless ringing through the quiet place. "This is 2D, Lou," he states the obvious just so.

Louis shakes his head then, lightly huffing a laugh. "Yeah, no, I know, Haz, but. Why did you want me here?"

Stopping in front of the man, their level of gazes locking intensely, Harry watches as Louis' eyes flick from his eyes and down to his lips. Up in his eyes again. "You've been acting like nothing's happened, Lou. Like we're just friends. We're not." Louis opens his mouth to speak, closes it. Harry leans in and there's just an inch between their lips now.

In hindsight, Louis would've probably pushed him off in order not to initiate anything, albeit gently though, like he's made of glass. Because that's all Louis' been when it comes to him since anyway. Being caring and tender. Like Harry's some China Doll, which is nice... But then, "No, we're not," Louis finally utters out, agreeing with what he's said. And then he's the one who's closing the distance between them, hands cupping Harry's cheeks softly, fingers closing around Harry's head and stopping at the back of his neck. Louis is the one who's kissed him first, and fuck, Harry's admittedly so, so proud of two things right now: 1.) of himself for cracking Louis, finally, and 2.) of Louis, for finally accepting them as not just what they were; teacher and student, friends, and whatsoever.

Humming contentedly, Harry kisses him back. Just as hard, just as eager. He's always so fucking eager to please Louis. Practiced tongues tangle as they snog hungrily seconds to their lips being locked, messily now, with Harry's hands resting on Louis' hips as he steps back and pulls Louis along with him.

They inch lower and eventually lie on the floor, mouths unstoppable from moulding against each other, tongues sliding deliciously sweet and slick, and Harry on instinct just starts trailing his fingers along Louis' belt, unfastening it and tugging like it's nothing. He's expert at this, expert with undressing someone since he's fourteen, what can he say. But then Louis pulls away though, which, fuck. Harry's becoming so into it just now. He kinda wanna whine now then, or maybe cry. He looks at Louis, aggravated and left unsatisfied, the man's lips who's towering over his pliant body looking so pink and swollen and shiny wet. So hot. "What are you doing? Not here, Harry, someone might walk in on us--"

"No one comes in here but me," he immediately interrupts, a bit whimpering. _Kids believe we've got a Moaning Myrtle in this part of the school, that's why, like, just fuck me or something, please._

Louis' hair is wild. And he himself is wild when he hisses out, "Still, Harry. Circumstances can be a bitch sometimes."

Harry puckers his chin at this and pouts, "But, Lou--"

Louis cuts him off, blue eyes narrowing with his eyebrows a pinch knotting. "Listen to your teacher, Harry," he mutters in a dark tone.

Harry's heart crawls up on his mouth, the sound of the raspy voice of Louis going straight to his dick. Fuck, he's so hot Harry will fucking die if he doesn't get off to it tonight. "Just...let me suck you off at least? Please... Want you so bad. Been wanting you since day one."

Harry readies himself to be scolded after he's uttered that one out. And he waits. No ear bursting scoldings came.

He sees that Louis is silently staring down on him, as if studying his face and having some sort of battle with his subconscious right now, and until, " _Fuck_ ," he grits out breathlessly, smacking the floor beside Harry's head in internalized agony with his cheeks all red, and flipping them both over, Harry once again gasping because he's not used to the suddenness of it yet, letting Harry be on top. He blinks in surprise when Louis gestures toward his cock. "Have at it then, but make sure to keep it together and make it quick."

And fuck, fuck, fuck. _Yes, fuck_. They're really doing this, Harry is gonna taste Louis in his mouth, bare and pure. Harry nods vigorously as he scrambles to be in between Louis' thighs in no time, all but wanting to get on with it and fast, like perhaps before Louis could even change his mind, because that would be such a fucking big disappointment for his horny-as-fuck-self's part.

If he's being honest, Harry is a bit upset that he won't be able to take his time to appreciate Louis' cock, like, for the first time that he meets with it. That if what Louis wants is for him to make this quick, Harry won't be one to get all happy about the probable thickness of it once he's grasping it, the bigness and the loveliness... But he supposes he'll take whatever is presented to him for now. And so he reaches out, feeling Louis' semi hard cock through his trousers, which has Louis shuddering visibly underneath him, the sound of his shaky breathing going straight once again to Harry's own hardening dick. _He's finally putting the cock of his hot professor in his mouth. Shit._

He unzips his fly then, and Harry is so focused that he almost misses the part where Louis' shut his eyes tight and swallowed hard. Harry feels fireworks exploding in his tummy just by being aware that he's the reason for Mr. Louis Tomlinson, his adult English professor, to go all desperate for something like that. "Harry, quit teasing. Just suck my fu--," _he almost swore he almost said fucking cock and that is so hot fuck fuck fuck_ , "--just suck my cock already. Please, baby."

Harry bites on his lip, nodding at Louis obediently as he blinks at him, positively beaming at the pet name 'baby'. The older man sighs, carrying his weight by his elbows as he peers over at him, Harry's face in between Louis' thighs. "I will suck you off, Lou. Just. I-- it's just kinda sad I won't be able to make you feel good first."

Louis reaches out and caresses his cheek. "I know, baby... but we're in school. I'm actually risking my life just for you-- I could go to jail if someone sees us here, and you know that right? You're way smart not to. I'm only doing this because you want it. Well, we both do... but again, you have to make it quick though."

Nodding his head, finally understanding, Harry really, really gets on with it then. He unbuttons Louis' trousers and pulls down his pants, then his boxers and--fuck. His cock _springs_ out, the heaviness of it slapping hard against his belly in an upward curved position. Louis is throbbing hard, like, he's thick and he's, god, large and _leaking_. Harry wraps a sweating palm around it, and despite he's got such huge paw--he's been told times and times already that it just sank in--the thickness of Louis still has his hand mostly dwarfed by it. Fuck. "So big, Lou. So... ohmigosh," Harry gushes, can't quite help it. He _needs_ Louis to know just how pretty his cock is. "So pretty, Lou. Your cock is the prettiest cock I've seen."

Harry notices the blush creeping up from Louis' throat and then to his gorgeous cheekbones. "Just get on with it, baby," he still says, in that dark, controlling and dominant voice again.

Harry swallows, salivating already just by seeing Louis' veiny cock like this, all hard and angry just for him--so, so turned on. Not wasting any more time, Harry leans down as he sticks his tongue out, licking a stripe across the slit, tasting a bit of its pre-come and the saltiness, testing what might be Louis' first and foremost reaction towards it. Just as he's expected from the man, Louis hisses in between gritted teeth, and then he readjusts himself, lying back down again.

Harry licks his lips, and then without further ado, he's taking Louis in his mouth, slowly, slowly, going down, stretching his mouth widely open, and until he can feel Louis' peak hitting the back of his throat. Harry pulls off, and Louis breathes, "Oh, fuck," looking at Harry with now heavy lidded glassy eyes, "You can--you can deepthroat, that's--that's so _damn hot_ , Haz." Harry hums, appreciative of the compliment, and then he's taking Louis in his mouth again, this time creating a rhythm, bobbing his head up and down, lips wrapped around Louis' shaft tight, his tongue swirling and lapping at the base of his cock, feeling the hardness of the salty skin, his mouth feeling so full and quite spent despite of himself.

Harry goes on, playing with Louis' balls with his other free hand, massaging them and squeezing eagerly, as he deepthroats Louis into full bliss with an unimaginable speed (besides, Harry has mastered the art of giving heads, he's been told he's ace at it, so), his other hand tangling with the hooks of Louis' belt loop, because yes, they're both still all the way dressed. Just that Louis' cock is out and of course his beautiful round bum.

"You're so fucking good at-- _oh_ \--at this, baby, so...so..." Louis pants out, and Harry's attention averts towards him momentarily, before he's pushing himself to his limits again and making everything feel good for Louis and his balls and his cock. He lets his tongue curve and twirl and slide hard and eager against Louis' shaft, hungry for more.

Pulling off with an obscene wet _pop_ , Harry wraps a hand around Louis and pumps it fast, fast, quick expert thrust using just his hand. Louis arches his back at the force and sensation of it, neck craning a little, hooded gaze locking on Harry's. His hair is completely disheveled and his face all dazedly ruined. _He did that._ "So lovely, Lou..." Harry croaks out, and fuck. His own voice sounds different even in his ears, his throat already quite sore from deepthroating Louis just now.

Leaning down once more, Harry as he tugs at Louis' cock licks a long stripe down from Louis' balls and up to the tip of the head, doing that again and again for good measure, sucking at Louis' balls while he pumps his dick swift and spit-slick. Louis moans at that, closing his eyes and biting his lip; Harry can see him through his lashes, just as he's hollowing his cheeks and once again swallowing Louis whole down.

"I'm... almost... shit," Louis rasps out, still keeping quiet, hand reaching towards Harry's back of the head, fingers tangling on his curls. Harry purrs at the wonderful contact, his throaty voice muffled with Louis' dick occupying his full mouth. "Coming, _Haz_ \--I'm--fucking--"

Harry at that information speeds up, bobbing his head up and down, his curls bouncing and some of his fringe blocking his visions. But then Louis gasps softly, the fingers tangled in his hair pulling abruptly, and--and then Harry's eyes go so big when he finally feels Louis shooting his load at the back of his throat, spurting the lasts and letting them drop on Harry's tongue, as he slides out of Harry's swollen lips. Louis sits up in a haste and tucks himself in, just in time with Harry swallowing down his come, grabby hands making for Harry's suddenly limping body, and then there are arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close to their hard chest. "You did so good, baby," Louis whispers in his curls, soothing and praising, nuzzling against him, "you...did so well. So good for me."

The silence that accommodates that makes Harry a little bit hazy and high, his head still in subspace, as he peers up at Louis who is cradling him safely and caring in his arms. "I'm glad I did good..." He croaks, smiling.

Louis shushes him, pecking his temple. "I'm glad too. You did so wonderfully."

Harry hums, feeling happy. "Thank you, Lou... for letting me do this."

Louis shakes his head. "Harry, baby, don't be ridiculous. I should be the one thanking you. You didn't have to, but you did. And you were so great."

"Yeah, but. I wanted to, so..."

"Is this what you wanted me here for?" Louis asks, still cradling him and rocking back and forth.

Harry nods, sniffling. "Just... like. Kind of wanted to show you what you'll be missing out if you walked out on me."

"Is that right?" Louis whispers, gentle as ever.

Harry sighs. "I know it sounded selfish and stuff, but for what it's worth I really, really like you, Louis, just--'m so gone for you. And I-- I just want us to maybe, stop with the whole tiptoeing around each other, I don't--," he cuts himself off, lips still tingly with Louis stretching them with his massiveness just now.

"It's fine, Harry, you don't have to explain further, I get it." He tips Harry's chin up and looks at him straightly. "I like you too, alright? I really do. And even without the whole giving of heads, trust me if I say I know I'd be so stupid to let someone like you just go." Taking a deep breath, Harry watches as Louis' Adam's apple bob up along his throat, and then he's saying, "I just don't know how to go from here though. How's it gonna be for us? For you? I'm your teacher, Harry. An adult that's supposed to be your second guardian--second father figure, you know? But now I just let you suck my cock and I feel like beating the shit out of me'self for being so--fucked-up. What we're doing is..." He doesn't say it, but Harry knows exactly what he's about to let out. Harry can feel a batch of tears threatening to stream down his face. He refrains hard from crying.

"It still feels right, though, doesn't it," he murmurs instead. It's not a question, and Louis must know it because he only nods his agreement. "If that's the case, then... I'm sorry, Lou, but I won't be stopping. Won't be stopping even if I break and crush--even if it kills to just gaze at you from afar. Even if I badly want to kiss you every time you're near like now." Harry cups Louis' cheeks and presses a lingering kiss to his mouth to make his point clear. He pulls away a bit and murmurs against their lips, "Whatever happens, whatever the amount of space and whatever the piles of wrongs there is in regards to this, Louis... no matter what, I'm saying I'm in."

Blinking softly, looking enamored if not awed, Louis lets the air breeze wash over them firstly before he's eventually nodding slightly, like he's all weakened and surrendering, letting their foreheads press close. "Okay, baby. Okay... if... if you're in, then I'm in."

And that's it--that's it for Harry. He jumps Louis and tackles him in for a kiss, harder this time with their teeth clashing, and then they're suddenly giggling on each other's mouth because of that as they both topple down, tangle of limbs and joyfulness and bravery radiating through them. Harry belatedly realizes he's never really been the happiest he's ever had in a long, long time since Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did u like it? c: pls tell me in the comments!!! xx i love you xxx


	9. all day i dream about sshh with you ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zianouis session. if harry and his girl gang had a talk on the previous chapter, then louis with his "lads" gang will also have theirs ;)
> 
> teachers gossip in the faculty about the boyfriend.  
> harry meets lee and saturn for the first time c:  
> something steamy at the end. ok, enjoy!

If it isn't for the fact that Louis just automatically becomes a whole lot selfish when it comes to Harry, his _boyfriend_ (oh, shit, that definitely feels good and a little thrilling to think), he would've probably come clean to his best mates now and showed them Harry's profile on  paypercome.com and told them what the other matter is aside from him being qualified to rot in jail. And maybe boast to them how he's got that pretty boy begging for his dick just a week ago while he was at it. As a conversation starter or something.

But that's not what he's come here for though, so he won't. And even so, he would never. Even if given this is Zayn, his partner in crime since they met, and _Niall._

"How old is he again?" Niall asks, casually, situating himself on Zayn's lap, as Zayn smokes away with Louis at the balcony. They're at the Horan-Malik residence, and Louis' thankful for a change of atmosphere.

Louis takes a drag of his killer stick, inhaling, and then blows afterwards. He doesn't naturally smoke like this--unlike Zayn who does it frequently--but lately he's been stressing so much that he suddenly needed this. And with his best friends, preferably, while he vents to them about his sins and shit.

"He's seventeen, Ni..."

"He's what? Sorry, didn't catch that, Lou," replies Niall, one who seems to appear genuine about not catching it, kind of making Louis grit his teeth in irritation just because he doesn't want to repeat himself regarding that entire situation. Every freaking time he gets reminded just how young Harry is, he feels like shit and such an all-out terrible person combined. A fucking pedophile. He just wishes Niall would hear it this second time though, or so God help Louis...

He sighs exasperatedly. "I said he's _seventeen_ , Niall, Jesus Christ, why do you have to make me repeat that horrible number--"

"As in a seven after a one?" Zayn exclaims, looking at him now with wide eyes, clearly ridiculed, "Pardon me Lou, but?"

And that's Louis' cue to flick his cigarette over the balcony and bury his face on his palms. "Fuck, I know," he whimpers, shaking his head over and over as though that will make the truth go away and or any less horrid. It won't, and he knows it, but Louis still can't help it.

See, he knows this already. That what he's gotten himself into isn't just something that could be pass off as either 'that's okay, Harry will grow into a right adult anyway' or 'that's fine, Lou, you both enjoy each other's company anyway, right? That's all that matters'. And if that isn't the other matter... The part where they enjoy each other. Like, literally.

He and Harry have been sort of dating for a week now, and so far it's going smooth. Hella smooth actually, like, shit. And fuck, okay, Harry is just the sweetest. Sweetest and at the same time kinkiest. There had been times in their just-now-starting relationship that Harry would slip notes in his binders just for Louis saying stuff like 'My favourite things about you are your eyelashes, have I ever told you?' and when Louis was checking their notes, he would see them and he wouldn't be able to control himself, he would smile and text Harry like a fucking schoolboy with a crush. **_You cheeky sod._**

Harry then would wink at him from where he'd been sat inside the room and reply, **_When can I suck your dick again, Lou? I miss it :( [][] xx_** , and Louis would sputter, right, feel his cock hardening in seconds flat in between his thighs beneath the desk, and that'd be it. Harry is a sweetheart who is also a freaking minx, is what he is. And Louis knows this too--he's a camboy for fuck's sakes. An ex-mermaid, ex-fairy, ex-dainty fresh daisy, now a faunlet (nymphet), power bottom unicorn sex toys enthusiast, so really, what does he expect? He's dating a young, virgin and cheeky camboy.

 _And that is why_ , Harry went out his way and sucked Louis off at 2D once again on that day. Louis being Louis had become quite generous, he got Harry off too. They rutted against each other against the side of the blackboard, quick and messy and hot, with Harry panting all open-mouthed against Louis' cheek, Louis thrusting hurriedly and kneading at Harry's arse. Fuck, those soft and meaty arse. Louis never thought he'd see the day he'll finally own those fine pair.

"Jesus Christ, Lou. He's even younger than Lotts!" Exclaims Zayn once more, taking a long drag out of his smoke before killing the light with his leather shoes. He's just got back from work.

Louis lets out another whimpering sound, _because fucking hell Zayn is right, Harry is younger than his sister._ Louis wails now, the pathetic tosser he is. "I know. But I'm in love with him, alright? And I'm torn, Zaynie. I don't know what to do. What if-- what if I get caught? And then I'd go to jail, what will happen to Harry then? I don't want him getting hurt. I swear he'd be so devastated and traumatized _for life._ " Louis runs his palms across his face and fixes his mates a look. "Imagine being seventeen and experiencing having a boyfriend in prison."

This outburst has got Zayn and Niall quiet for a moment, seemingly pondering to themselves. And until Niall speaks, voice surprisingly fond, "You really do love him."

His heart skips a beat, and he feels those stupid butterflies in his tummy again, like what he's been feeling ever since he and Harry started texting before they even got into this relationship.

Louis sighs. "I do, Niall, of course, what the fuck even--"

Niall hastens to cut through. "No! I mean, the way you said it, Lou. Like you don't even care about going to jail at all. You just care about how that will affect this boy, Harry."

"Oh." Louis breathes, realization hitting him that, yeah, Niall is very much correct about that one. Louis truly doesn't care about him going in jail at this point, but rather with the aftermath if that ever did happen.

"Yeah. How long has this been going though?" Zayn asks, resting his cheek against Niall's arm.

"About a week," Louis answers, and then elaborates, "Well, actually, we've been beating 'round the bush longer, but yeah, 's only been a week since we--oh, how do I put it?--surrendered to each other."

"I see. Does anyone know?" Comes the reply.

Louis thinks about Delevingne, Jenner, Calder and Whitelaw--those fairly supportive friends of Harry, the reason for his Live In The Moment topic on one of his days in class. "His friends know, I think. I mean, they helped with the whole wingman gesture."

"And his friends, I suppose, are..."

"My students," Louis says, feeling a bit hesitant himself.

"Shit," Niall exhales.

To which Zayn follows with his own release of breath, "Shit, indeed. Lou, how could you be so irresponsible?"

Louis frowns. "Like I said, Z, I love him... This isn't just some fling to me, honest. And I sure fucking hope so this isn't just some high school crush to him too, or I swear to God I'll fucking break."

"How can you be so attached already after, say, a few months?" Niall wonders.

And this is the part where Louis should be saying, _because I've known about him for ten fucking months already, okay? I'm an avid subscriber, and you should see his face. He's a real doll_. In the end he tacks on with, "I don't know... just. Just kinda happened, I guess."

"God, you really do fall fast, don't you?" Zayn states rather unhelpfully, making Louis wince visibly.

"Don't say it like it's a bad thing. Harry is someone who you'd fall for and fast," he defends then.

"He's that charming, I reckon?"

"He's that charming, yes, Z. Y'all should meet him."

"Oh, we will. But right now, let's discuss how you'll get away with this one, because I don't want you in jail, old man."

"I'm not that fucking old," Louis grumbles, hates that he's the oldest in their bunch.

"Yes, you are," Niall presses lightly, rendering a scowling face from Louis, "but that's for another debate. How do you guys cope in school?"

This has Louis thinking deeply, and then he's suddenly feeling hot at the cheeks and twitchy in his pants. "Well, he--he blows me after school."

"Fuck, that must be so hot," Zayn comments idly.

"It is, you have no fucking clue, mate. He found this abandoned classroom at the topmost floor of the academy and there is where we get each other off--"

"Too much info, arsehole," Niall cuts in with a laugh.

"Oh, don't act like you've never done public sex, Niall." Louis rolls his eyes.

"I did, but that doesn't mean--"

"Wait, you did? But we've never--"

"I--," Niall looks over his shoulder and to Zayn, "Babe, that was a high school thing when you didn't exist in my life yet. With someone else, but, like--oh, fucking hell, why is this suddenly on me? Back to the subject of discussion!" Niall waves dismissively, and Louis can't help his smirking as he notices the hand Zayn has on Niall's hip, inch by inch gripping possessively, leaning towards territorial. "Anyway, it's a good thing you've never once been caught?"

Louis shakes his head, crossing his arms against his chest. "No, we've never been. And I hope it stays that way, because I honestly won't know what to do from there. Not when Harry's got my dick--"

"Fucking hell, Lou--"

"--down his throat, because then how can we pass that off as just completely innocent and platonic?" Louis finishes.

Niall sighs, frustrated at his friend's foul mouth.

But he proceeds anyway. "You won't, and that is why I suggest you both should keep it in your pants for as long as you can and just do sexual things in your own flats--the safe spaces."

"Hmm. You're right, Niall. But sometimes it's just hard, though, because Harry is--he's like a walking sex machine, yeah?" Louis says, can't help breaking into a sly grin. "As much as I hate saying that out loud, because that's supposed to be a me-thing."

"Right. But your smug face says otherwise though, dick," Niall deadpans.

"But you still had public sex with someone else," Zayn butts in, directing his gaze on Niall.

"Oh, come off it, babe. We're fucking married!" Niall throws his hands up in the air, chuckling.

Zayn pouts. "I know, but..."

Niall leans in and whispers something on Zayn, meaning it's Louis' cue to tune them out completely, because then Zayn is blushing madly and God knows Niall has said something extra filthy in his ear. Louis can only shake his head at his best mates, and perhaps put what they said into consideration while he's at it.

♡♡♡♡

It's another day at school and Louis stayed behind at the faculty room, just so he could avoid any and all opportunity to run with Harry inside the nearest loo to snog the life out of him. It's hard, but Louis knows better to resist, so.

Moments in, Aiden Grimshaw comes striding inside the area with a flourish, as he dramatically slumps down to his seat behind his desk, making the rest look up from their lunches.

"Exhausting class?" Caroline asks around a mid-mouthful, twisting the cap of her can of Dr. Pepper open. Louis from his own desk carries on with shoveling his food down, while he minds his surroundings and co-teachers.

"Nah. But there's this one kid who keeps on being such an irritating brat," Aiden stresses, shaking his head in dismay.

"Let me guess," Caroline says, mocking pondering, "George Taylor?"

"No... although I must say Taylor is a bit problematic too, but-- I'm talking about the other kid. Maverick." Aiden sighs, rubbing furiously at his temples. Louis looks up from his plate at the mention of that boy.

"Oh. Austin Maverick," Liam hums, tossing an apple in the air and then catching it as it falls. "What about him?"

"Trouble," comments Barbara easily from where she's seated, stocking some textbooks into a neat pile. Louis couldn't agree more if he tried.

Aiden looks at Louis. "Yeah, heard Mr. Tommo put that kid and some under DA weeks prior, actually."

"Oh, yeah," Liam chimes in, looking at Louis now at this point as well. "So I've heard. What happened, Lou?"

Louis swallows down his mashed potato and flicks his attention towards Liam. "Bullied someone." _Aka my boyfriend._ "Uhm, saw them by some alley when I was heading home. There were seven of 'em, cornering this poor boy."

"Who was the kid?" Julian asks curiously, just only now joining the conversation.

Louis lets out the breath he hasn't realized sooner he's been holding. And he says, "Harry Styles."

Aiden frowns, and Liam does too as he says, "Oh... but that boy is such a sweetheart though. Why would they? What could he have done to deserve such cruelty?"

"Who knows?" Caroline muses.

Julian shakes his head after a while of thinking. "Yeah, beats me."

"Kids these days, I swear to God Almighty," Caroline sighs, loud and suffering long.

Liam hops off his desk and pulls out his binder. "How's Styles doing in your classes anyway?" He asks conversationally.

And Louis quiets when they start talking about Harry, just so he can hear everything they have to say, just so he can bask in them because he himself knows that Harry's a natural--a purely brilliant boy and that he never fails to amaze. "He's really bright," says Aiden then, "he's very impressive, always reciting."

"Yes, such a bright boy he is," Julian adds, nodding from where he is around the cramped faculty.

"He's outstanding in my class," Barbara says, looking at her co-teachers through her reading glasses, and Louis feels his heart grow a hundred times bigger as it wells with so much pride for his boy. Walters tacks on, "And I can see he loves to help other kids, too, but he still gets picked on for some reason, and that's the one thing I would never understand." _Or did you mean getting hit on?_ Louis grudgingly thinks, something he doesn't plan on saying.

"I'd never understand why such a respectful, kind and bright kid would get bullied," Liam says again, like it's a puzzle he would want to solve but can never ever. Louis feels for him.

"But what matters is he's passing every subject though, right?"

"Right. How about with you, Lou?" Liam asks him.

Louis blinks. "Oh, on mine? Yeah, he's--he's really amazing. I mean, despite he used to come in late... he's a changed student now, very attentive." _And very soft and smells so hella good and so, so--what the hell, Louis?_ He clears his throat. "So, yeah."

Julian hums, then he mutters whimsically, "Think he'd be one of my top students." _And I would be the proudest boyfriend._

♡♡♡♡

As their shift finishes, Louis after being the receiving end of Harry's sweet and cheeky blows of kisses from afar, watches as said wonderful boy leaves the homeroom with Cara and Kendall hooked to each of his lanky arms, singing some song Louis doesn't know at the top of their lungs as they skip and hop happily away so, with Melissa giggling and Eleanor flipping her hair as they follow. He receives a text from Harry after twenty minutes from then, asking to meet up, and just like that Louis is the giddiest, most whipped sod there is alive.

He waves Liam and Julian by the faculty goodbye, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulders, and then he's off for tonight. Louis walks alone to the tube, careful not to be spotted by any familiar faces on his way, and then there's Harry finally, coming into view, completely blowing Louis away.

He's standing by the top of the subway stairway, looking as sweet and as pretty and just, heavenly angelic as ever, looking up just in time for Louis' few steps arrival.

He watches, animatedly so, as Harry slowly lights up upon seeing him, eyelashes fluttering as he smiles that perfect smile, dimples popping at each his rosy cheeks with his curls bouncing as he straightens up. " _Lou_ ," he says, quite breathless. Louis wants to kiss him.

"Hi," he says instead, stopping in front of him. "Been waiting long? It's freezing cold, you should've brought a coat."

Harry shakes his head. "Yeah, I-- I forgot. Uhm. Lou?" He looks at Louis with those big and sparkling Bambi eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Are you an asthma?"

And, what? Louis blinks at him. "Sorry, what? Why, Harry?"

Breaking into a grin, Harry cheekily tells him, "Because you take my breath away."

Louis, heart pounding madly in his chest, bursts in giggles and bites his lip just seconds after, feeling so purely fond of this beautiful boy. "Only you, Harry Edward Styles," he says, shaking his head with his grin never leaving his face.

"Love it when your eyes crinkle like that," Harry laments, bouncing with the balls of his feet, poking Louis' side. "You look adorable."

Louis looks at him, actually affronted. "Adorable. Harry, _seriously_?"

At this, Harry cackles loudly that he has the urge to slap a hand to cover his mouth, his green eyes growing so big. "Whoops." It's Louis' turn to laugh now.

They ride the tube after that, quiet to themselves as they stand side by side and hold onto the railings of the crowded ride, except for Louis' mind that is in frenzy perhaps, hands itching to be all over the young boy's body. Harry stands close to him in instinct just as they reach a stop, more people flooding in; Louis works up the courage to put his hand around Harry's narrow waists, feeling the slenderness of the boy in his arm, smelling so good being so close to him.

Throughout the ride and until they reach their stop, Louis can feel Harry smirking at their technical spooning, making him smirk to himself as well.

"I would like to go to yours, Louis," Harry utters out after a while, after they've made it out the underground.

Louis double takes, embarrassingly so. "Huh?"

Calmly, the boy clarifies his desires, "Your place, Lou... I wanna come with and see, if--if that's okay?"

"Oh." Louis' mouth forms an _O_. But then he shuts it and he's all the sudden nodding without much of a fight, so they begin walking to the direction of where his flat is, which is opposite to Harry's street.

Having memorized like the back of his hand the only time it takes when walking to his place, Louis after a few more steps starts fishing out his keys from his pocket because he knows they are near, and then he leads Harry up a flight of stairs a bit afterwards, turning just once. Looking back over his shoulder just to make sure that the boy is still following him, the next thing that's happening is of Louis inserting his key in the keyhole of his door, just after being reassured by his own visions that yeah, this is not just a wonderful dream and Harry really is his now, and that they're about entering his humble flat moments from now, together.

Thing is, never in a million years did Louis ever expect he would see the day one Harry Styles would stand in the middle of his living room, looking so real and alive and pretty--wandering-- _breathing the same air as he in this shack he calls home. Because like, this is still heyangel98, Louis, the once muse of your fantasies, the one you've grown fond of, and now he's in your flat. Your obsession for over the past months, now almost a year; you finally had him here. And yet you're not even thinking of doing anything about it like the idiot you are for him, like the cheesy sap, in too deep loverboy you are for him._

Everything's just too good to be true from this point on, ever since Harry's stepped inside his place, and Lee and Saturn greeting the lovely boy isn't helping Louis' case here either, because he's freaking _melting_ by the second. Seeing Harry crouching down to level with his cats on the ground, excitedly and giggling, smiling wildly as he nuzzles his cheek against their fur, is just the most precious sight Louis has ever laid his eyes on. He may or may not want to keep this memory locked away in his heart forever.

Stepping closer, Louis picks up Saturn and stands. "Come here you, you little bean. How come you guys greet Harry like you've known him forever and never do that to me whenever I get home?"

Harry giggles, picking up Lee as well as he stands, letting the black Primadonna cat nuzzle against his neck, and _Louis is absolutely stunned at this_. "They're so cute, Lou," Harry is saying, but Louis can't take his attention off the matter, still, "What're their names? Oh, and your place is very nice," Harry comments, looking around.

But then, "Hold on a minute," Louis can't contain gasping quite exaggeratedly, making Harry widen his eyes as well as he looks at him. "You traitor!" He finally exclaims, pointing at Lee. "She never lets me carry her like that! How--what-- _how come she_ \--," and he's gone speechless long after that.

Harry bursts out in laughter, dimpling adorably. Oh, God, Louis is so not gonna make it at thirty. "Uh-oh. Looks like someone's got their new favourite," Harry teases, cheeks rosy pink.

And--and Louis just breaks into a fond smile. Then he grins, and he smiles again, turning softer and softer as seconds pass by. He assesses Harry's other complimentary. "Nah, Harry. Yours is still nicer than mine. Smells spectacular too. _And_ \--," he looks at him with a shrug, "--if I were Lee, I would also have you as my new favourite." He wiggles his eyebrows cheekily at Harry, and that elicits a deeper shade of pink on both of the boy's cheeks. "But only because I'm a boring pet owner, 'don't think you're any special than being younger and thus lesser grumpy, young Harold."

" _Heeeey_." Harry pouts. And Louis has to lean in and kiss that pout away, making the boy giggle into their mouth, Louis peppering him with soft chaste kisses. When they pull away, Harry turns his face to drop a kiss on top of Lee's head, which is just so cute, what the hell, and then he smiles at Louis. "But I'm serious, Lou. Your place looks very cozy and lovely too."

"Why, thank you, baby," Louis chirps, placing another feather kiss on Harry's nose, causing the boy to scrunch it up prettily, "why don't you come further inside then, have a sit and I'll just be a minute; how do you take your tea?" He asks Harry, already putting down Saturn to go inside his room and change into something more comfy.

He looks back just in time to see Harry taking a sit on the couch, already toeing his school shoes off and dropping his bag. He looks up to tell Louis, "Uhm, just milk, no sugar."

"Ah, a man after my heart," Louis mocks being swooned, putting a hand over his chest. Harry giggles again (such a lovely sight, that), and then he's back on playing with Lee by the couch.

Louis quickens his pace to change from his work attire to just some shirt and some trackies, emerging from his bedroom and then going toward his kitchen. He prepares tea for the both of them, and then he comes back later to join Harry by the living room. "What's the cat identical to Garfield's name is?"

Louis puts down their cuppa on the coffee table and settles next to Harry by the couch. "That, my dear, is Saturn. He's a male. And that traitor you are holding is again, Lee, a female."

"Oh," Harry hums, nodding with an awed smile. "I love them. I never knew you had cats... this is just so great."

"Surprise?" Louis quips, grinning. Harry lets out soft chuckles, still smiling that awestruck smile, eyes sparkling. Oddly, he reminds Louis of Princess Ariel once again, when the little mermaid first had her human legs. "Anyway, what do you want to do? There's nothing really interesting in this household, young Harold." He laughs weakly. "'M truly very sorry, but when I said I'm boring earlier, I really did mean it in a literal manner."

Harry is quick to shake his head, quite petulant if not insisting. "No, Lou! You're not-- you're not boring. Not at all! Stop saying that." He laughs heartily, and then he quiets down, looking at Louis with massive green eyes, almost looking so innocent under the translucent light of Louis' living room, "Although if you're asking me what I really want to do tonight, I think I already know just what."

"Is that right?" Louis cocks a brow at Harry, voice has strangely dropped an octave too. The boy nods his head vigorously. Louis opts with humoring him, mentally readying himself just in case Harry would initiate sex. "Okay then. What is it you want, hmm?"

And like, sue Louis if he thought Harry would say something cheesy like maybe 'you', considering the spaces he's taking up as he leans in towards Louis, right, even fluttering his lashes like the true minx subby kitten he is, but, of all the things, Louis must admit he didn't expect for him to say these instead, "You, me and this couch. Let's maybe watch something before I go?" And... there you have that.

Louis is once again appalled at how truly something Harry is as a person. How he's so different from the person Louis thought he'd be all those months ago, how pure and enthralling and refreshing a boy he is, and just how unique he is despite of how many people Louis has already met in his twenty nine years of entity. Harry is just about above everyone that Louis so far has known, and he's sure he'll be more amazed at the boy the longer he'll surely be knowing him throughout the days they'll be as one. Like it's inevitable. Because Louis Tomlinson is nothing if not a real keeper, and Harry just so happened to be the boy he's truly, madly and deeply in love with.

So they decide on watching something on the telly then, with Louis handing Harry some clothes to wear for the part of it, letting him change inside the loo. There's some shitty reality TV show playing idly on the screen, and throughout it nothing sexual happened between them at all. Which is fine--that's fine by Louis. But Harry does scoot closer to him though after a while, and they end up cuddling and sharing kisses back and forth, with those happening during an Animal Planet segment. Harry smells so nice, so otherworldly, and Louis is just so addicted to him, quite frankly. Louis deems he can definitely get used to this.

♡♡♡♡

"So, how's the experience of teaching in a private academy, Professor Tomlinson?" James Corden asks, just as they're through with introductions and a bit of family gossips.

Louis grins, looking out the window of English Caffeine in search of a mop of curly locks and bright green eyes amongst the heaps of people in the streets, the one epitome of rainbows and happiness who's meant to come meet him here today--in a 'platonic' teacher-student lunch, they've decided. "It's nice. Students here are lovely and the facilities and teachers are very refreshing and welcoming. I've been dreaming of this, and you know that, so. Thank you again for this, James. I believe I haven't thanked you enough." _If it wasn't for your help, I wouldn't have met the love of my life._

"Oh, hush you, it's fine!" Laughs the man on the other end. "You're great at what you do, lad! You totally deserve this!"

Louis hums, delighted endlessly at finally spotting the boy he's been anticipating to see pushing through the crowd with those lanky limbs and endless legs, ever since the entire first period on this pleasant Friday has ended. And it's only then Louis remembers to respond to his friend, "You, too, James. You too."

The call ends just when Harry's stepped inside the shop, "Hi, Louis!" beaming all enthusiastic like that, bringing the fun and the beauty of everything in his wake as he comes.

Louis melts instantly on his spot.

♡♡♡♡

It's a weekend, there's a knock on the door. "Who is it?" Louis asks on his relaxed position by the couch.

"It's me, Lou!" But of course--of course it's Harry, his boy. Who else?

Days and weeks have passed, and it's with the matter of various blurs; blur of movie nights in his flat with Harry, Lee and Saturn, blur of after school shenanigans and make out sessions by the lockers, blur of tickling wars under Louis' covers, and a blur of Stargazing nights at the rooftop of the Louis' flat commercial building just whenever Harry's being sentimental and the like. They're almost three months in to this relationship now, everything's been sunshines and kaleidoscopic happy carnivals so far, and Louis hasn't logged back in to his account on paypercome.com since. Why should he, if he has the star of those shows cradled safely in his arms at all times?

No one has yet to caught sight of them of being more than friends in and outside of school aside from Harry's girl friends, and that, Louis thinks, is just downright marvelous. Things are going great for them--for Louis, especially, because he must be the luckiest man on earth to have what he has now. And don't even get him started on just how great it is to have Harry Styles as a boyfriend, because if you would ask what his main reasons are, he might just not be able to stop, for it would take days before he's taking a breather.

Because _really_ , being Harry's boyfriend means free cooked meals, no takeaways for you anymore, nope! Being Harry's boyfriend also means constantly clean sheets and neatly folded smelling of nicely clothes, a squeaky clean kitchen and constantly made bed, a dust-free shelves and Xbox and other devices, and just overall a seemingly instant personal hired housewife. Basically. And of course, a very lovely and pretty impatient one at that. Someone Louis kisses and touches on places that he wants-- _begs_ \--to be touched.

Ever since that night they cuddled on Louis' couch for the first time, Harry's seemed to have made it his religion to always drop a visit or two to Louis' flat--after school or like today when it's a weekend--and they would either have lunch, watch some movie Harry would bring with him, or perhaps sleep on Louis' couch. Just stuff like that. They've officially been the constant visitors of each other's places as it is, and Louis admittedly is satisfied with this kind of setup between them.

They kiss (like a whole damn lot), they hug, they have coffees at the shop nearby St. Bridget when no students Louis taught were in sight, and despite of how tight they have become now, no, they haven't gone all the way yet. They may have rubbed off on each other occasionally, Harry has given him heads countless of times before and Louis himself has got the boy off every time afterwards, but other than that, nothing more between them has been done. Louis, again, is still fine with that, as long as Harry is happy by his side, and as long as they both are happy with each other. No lacking of sex will ever ruin this thing for them, Louis has sworn once upon a time.

Dusting off the couch as he pushes Lee off of it in the process, Louis straightens up and trudges toward the door to let Harry in; and unsurprisingly as he gets there, he's met with such an endearing sight when he opens the door. In just his lilac jumper that's almost swallowing him whole, sweater paws and all, matched with some black leggings as his bottoms that makes him seem like a pregnant mom, and with his curls tied up in a bun, Harry is a beautiful lavender petunia flower that's popped and grown at Louis' door. Something he'd love to bring inside and perhaps forever take good care of.

"Hi, baby, come on in." He wraps an arm around Harry's slim waists and captures his mouth with his, plump, red lips moving sweetly against his. Harry sighs happily against their kiss, just by being close to him again, and Louis pulls away shortly after that, just in time to notice Harry's brought a couple more DVDs in his hands.

"Thank you, Lou," Harry chirps, as always despite he's gone here over a million times the polite little shit, as he walks inside the flat. "Here," he says, handing over the DVDs to Louis, before he's carrying Lee in his arms and flopping himself down on the couch. "Missed you, little munchkin," he coos at the cat.

Louis sighs, fondly, as he puts down the DVDs on the coffee table, and goes over to the kitchen to fetch Harry some glass of carrot juice. Due to them having been dating a while now, Louis has learned all the basics about the boy; like how he enjoys doing yoga with the AC on and with some scented candles lit every time he's in the right mood for it, studying with his earphones on and John Mayer or The Beach Boys crooning in his ears, munching on some salad with his favourite dressing at any time of the day, and painting his nails with any and all pastel colors that could ever exist. It's almost like dating a girl, Louis can vaguely remember James' concerns regarding his wife's needs and wants back when they were boyfriends and girlfriends yet, although he never dwells on the idea and still sees Harry as just that--someone who's unique and always full of surprises, and he loves him very much.

Coming back from the kitchen with a glass of carrot juice, Louis hands it over just as Harry looks up; the boy happily takes the healthy refreshment and immediately takes a sip, then he puts it down over the coffee table, and snatches the DVDs beside it, making huge eyes at Louis. "Pick a movie, Lou. Let's start this."

And, it's not that Louis doesn't want to watch today, right, not that he's maybe thinking of something else to do instead of just sit through yet another film of Harry's taste, but. Perhaps he's just thinking of other stuff to do--to Harry, specifically--but. This isn't like Harry to be so eager about watching a film. He usually has it in himself to be cool about it. Then again, this is like, their thing now, so he supposes he should make for it.

Letting out a sigh, almost sounding rather dreamy just because he's always getting charmed at the green-eyed beauty, Louis accepts the DVDs and flops down on the couch next to Harry. At that, the boy instantly scoots closer against his side, and Louis just instinctively puts an arm over Harry's shoulders like it's second nature by now. Which, yeah, it actually is.

Louis puts his attention back to the DVDs. So, what Harry brought are, _Leon: The Professional, The Lovely Bones and Scooby Doo._

Louis cranes his neck to address Harry pointedly. "Scooby Doo? Really, H?"

Harry bites his lip, looking at him too. "Yes, why? Problem?"

Louis can't help chuckle. "Nothing." He shakes his head.

Harry pouts. "You're making fun of me."

"What?" Louis mocks affronted, clutching a hand on his chest, "Me? Making fun of you? _No way_." Harry pouts harder at that, his eyebrows knotting together, and fuck, that's just it. Louis drops the DVDs aside and scoops Harry up from the couch, making the boy instantaneously laugh and squeal, kicking his legs aimlessly.

" _Louis_ , Lou, Lou! Put me down!" Harry laughs, head thrown back, the column of his throat completely exposed. Louis leans in and opens his mouth, showing his fangs in the process. Caught, Harry squeals loudly and tries to get away, so Louis has to tickle him for it until he goes completely limp, then he eventually mocks bite him on the neck, earning another fit of giggles from the boy. "Louis! Oh, my _God_!"

He spins them around, carrying Harry Bridal Style, and until he feels dizzy himself that he finally, finally puts them down. "You're so heavy-- _oomph_!" Except, Harry upon kicking so much though has had them tumbling straight to the floor instead of the couch.

"Am I really that heavy?" Harry asks around a giggle, his face centimeters away from Louis' own.

Louis grins. "Not really. You're very light. Love it, baby."

Harry flutters his eyelashes seemingly pleased, dimpling, and they end up kissing because of that, with Lee and Saturn circling the tangled mess of limbs that they are, giving them these judgmental looks. Louis would never use that against them, however; as he himself would've probably done the same.

♡♡♡♡

They watch _Leon: The Professional_ in the end, and ever since it's started, Harry's got Lee on his lap while Saturn is nestled between his feet. Louis finds the picture quite a lot adorable, despite he'd much rather it was him who was squished against the boy.

As the movie goes on, Louis throughout it refuses to miss every move Harry makes next to him, like he can't help it, like everything Harry does is something that one shouldn't let go to waste. And thus he watches like a hawk (or really, like an obsessed butler, and Harry is his princess); he yawns, he laughs at times when Matilda made a witty comment, and he bites his lip or occasionally his nails when Leon begins his bounty hunting; he hugs his knees when Matilda's family gets murdered while she was out to buy some milk, he hides behind Lee's jet-black fur when he anticipates for Leon to let Matilda in because the man just has to hesitate for so long, and then he tears up when Matilda starts crying because his baby brother was the only thing she ever loved and cared for and now he's gone. Louis, at that point, isn't able to stop himself no more and pulls Harry in his arms, hugging him until Matilda from the movie feels all better, because that also means Harry feeling a whole lot relieved himself. And then the movie goes on.

In the midst of it Louis hasn't stopped cuddling Harry, and Harry hasn't stopped clinging to him as well, and that has Louis watching the film more seriously. But then he can feel Harry's hand traveling to his pants by the time Matilda's confessing her love for Leon, and Harry from then has his good hand massaging him through the fabric.

Louis' breath hitches.

And that must've been Harry's final cue, because the next thing he does is abandon the film altogether and finally shoots up from his position, climbing up on Louis' lap, arms around his neck. Louis holds him by the hips, gripping tight enough, and Harry surges down and captures his lips, tongue tugging to be inside his mouth without much finesse. It's a filthy one, the snog they're sharing, and every bone and vein in Louis' body is buzzing with it, blood heating up and pulses pumping, his dick hardening against Harry's bum that is pressing on it.

Hands coming up to clutch at the back of Harry's head, Louis tilts his own sideways to get a proper position so he's able to fuck up into Harry's mouth with his tongue, their kiss getting furiously heated and way more intense, their bodies no longer dull but rather active, the both of them rutting against each other, Harry pulling away just briefly to pant out breathlessly. And then Louis starts kissing down along his throat, nipping at the skin and leaving marks, fingers tangled in Harry's curls, messing his bun. Harry suddenly squeaks out, " _Please_ , Lou," begging for something.

"Please, what?" Louis has to ask, still leaving possessive lovebites on the sweet boy's exposed milky collarbone.

"Need your cock in my mouth. Now. Please." _In his mouth. They're really taking this slow, aren't they. That, or Harry's really just fond of swallowing his cum._

No matter though, because that's all the clarification he needs to hear really, and in seconds flat he's spreading his thighs open, so the boy gets in between them. Louis must be daft not to take that offer. "Okay, baby, anything you need."

Scrambling down to be on his knees, Harry looks up at Louis through his lashes and those heavy lidded eyes with such pure lust and _want_ , and fuck, Louis is so fucking turned on he might just wreck Harry tonight. But he wouldn't though--of course he wouldn't. Not unless Harry wants it too.

"You're so hard, Lou," Harry whispers in awe, eyes now locked on his bulge, tongue stuck out as though he's so, so desperately thirsty for Louis' cock, which is just. _Hot._ Reaching out, Harry presses on Louis' crotch and squeezes a little, kneading and kneading as he flicks his gaze back up as if wanting to see Louis' reaction on that, and until he's finally untying the strings of Louis' joggers.

Louis cards his fingers through Harry's loose curls and pulls at the elastic band to free the rest of his hair. Harry smiles at the gesture, but his attention never leaves Louis' hard-on nonetheless, most especially when he's finally let it spring out of Louis' joggers. Adjusting himself on the couch, Louis pulls down his own bottoms as he arches and lets it pool around his legs, Harry situating himself in between them again. Louis watches on as Harry takes his cock with both hands and begins pumping on it, one hand wrapped at the base and the other at the upper curve, licking his lips wet like he's craving as he works on it, eyes fixated as if amused. Like he's so enticed by it, so drawn in, and Louis still can't believe even after all this time that this perfection of a twink is craving only for his dick.

He's leaking pre-come quite already, the slit all slick, so when Harry leans in, the first thing he does is clean the white away with the tip of his tongue, like he always does when they get to this point in their relationship. Like clockwork it is, like a routine when the boy is giving him a blow job, and if this isn't such a sexual activity, Louis would've found it a lot more endearing than it already is.

So Harry starts from putting his balls in his mouth, sucking greedily on them, eliciting a low groan from Louis and for him to buck up, his fingers clutching tighter on Harry's hair. He tugs a bit, a bit harder now, and Harry just--he _moans_ sweetly, fluttering his eyes close in bliss, tongue swirling against the darker, deflated skin under Louis' balls. So fuck, Louis does it again then, just so that beautiful obscene sound could fill his ears again, and yes--yes, he is rewarded just by those, a lot louder than the first. Maybe Harry has some sort of...fucking _pain kink_ that Louis has failed to discover from before. But now that he knows though...

Louis stashes that new discovery away in his Harry's Kink Box for now. In the meantime, Harry is done licking him up good, his length all slicked up and shiny wet, the head of his cock an angry shade of red. He's throbbing mad, and Louis needs Harry to, "Quit teasing, baby. Just--," and the rest of his complaints dry on his throat, as Harry swallows him whole down, the tip of his cock hitting the back of Harry's throat.

The kid doesn't gag, has never shown no signs of possessing a gag reflex at all, even as he's obviously pushing to his limits. Louis rolls his hips and bucks up to Harry's warm mouth, and then Harry is suddenly bobbing his head up and down on his cock. Fast, slick and swiftly. Greedy and expert. Louis shakily lets out a sigh, fingers tightening in Harry's curls and pulling. _Pulling hard._ Harry groans lowly as a result, the sound muffled since he's mouthful of Louis' thick and hard cock, which, fuck, that's just hot. Harry with his wide obscene mouth wrapped around Louis' shaft, his eyelashes casting shadows over his hollowed cheekbones as he goes down on to swallow him whole.

Properly blowing him, Harry's tongue laps and swirls at the base of his length a tad needy, and until he fucking puts a _twist_ to his rhythm with it. His head is now tilting sideways as he still does back and forth, tongue getting eager by the second, the tip of Louis' dick jabbing harshly on Harry's now a tad trembling throat. Louis shudders wildly, feeling his orgasm building at his abdomen and sending chills to his neck, his cock getting heavier and more sensitive as he feels himself nearing its peak.

"Fuck, baby, I-- I'm almost there, _fuck_ ," he pants out, voice wrecked and raspy, his chest heaving frantically as he breathes.

Harry pulls off with a _pop_ , Louis' pre-come mixed with Harry's slimy saliva producing some sort of web connection with Harry's bottom lip as he pulls back a bit. He looks up at Louis with those Bambi eyes, hand once again pumping on his shaft. "Want you to fuck my mouth, Lou... Want it rough," he rasps out with that slow drawl of his, and fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. _Shit._ Just his voice alone is already thoroughly fucked, and here is Louis, dazed and hard with it.

He nods, quite ludicrously vigorous, so goddamn eager, as he shuffles to stand to his wobbly legs, one hand outstretched clutching on the couch headrest behind him supporting himself to balance, cracking his neck as he tilts it once on each side. He looks down at the boy kneeling before him and tangles his fingers through his curls again, guiding him to face his sensitive cock. Harry readies himself and once again takes Louis back in his mouth, tongue sticking out first; and he blows him, bobbing his head back and forth to Louis' cock, his nose brushing feather light at the jut of pubic hair against Louis' skin, his throat slowly producing some choking sounds.

Louis' dick preens at the obscenity of that, and he begs for more friction because of it, thus he starts to move his hips, bucking up and thrusting, fucking up into Harry's mouth... slowly, slowly, and until he goes rough, power thrusting. The boy closes his eyes at the probable impact, and he widens his mouth a tad, tongue still swirling from beneath, making every fibre on Louis' body to tremble with lust. It's the filthiness and beauty of the boy letting his throat to be fucked by Louis' heaviness and thickness that is being the center of his inspiration right now, the choking sounds that Harry is letting out, the wetness and warmth of his wide mouth and pink, soft tongue, that has Louis shaking with his flooding and building orgasm, the reason for his load to shoot while he's still not sliding out from Harry's mouth. " _Ah!_ " He yells, riding out his orgasm.

" _Mmmphf_ ," Harry squeaks through it.

"Fuck," Louis pants out, eyes shut tightly as he squirts some more, bits of sticky white beads leaking out. Harry releases him quickly, and then pumps on his cock some more--his god awful _sensitive_ penis--as if forcing it to shoot loads more, which holy fuck. But then it's granted though, and he just sees himself spurting some white fat strings across Harry's presented face once he dares to look down, his sticky come landing all over the boy's face--on his eyelids, his blooming hollowed cheeks, his slimy wet chin, and then the rest on his stuck out tongue. It's so fucking filthy, so, so dirty and obscene that Louis might just come twice tonight only with that sight alone. He drops down to his knees as he simultaneously puts his cock back in his joggers, scoops Harry up from the floor, and then kisses him hard on his slackened mouth, tasting himself against the boy's tongue. He pulls away and cups Harry's face in his palms, thumbing on his swollen lip, and looks at the pretty boy straight into his hazy eyes, the look on his face surreptitiously fucked, "You did so well, baby. So, so good for me." He peppers him with gentle kisses, each kiss coated with sweet praises. "You're so amazing... so incredible, darling."

Harry manages a weak laugh, grinning up at him. "I'm... I'm glad."

"Come here then, up you go now, baby. Let me get you off," Louis tells him, breathily, already guiding Harry over to the couch. He's gone completely pliant and limp now, weight too feather light and limbs all gangly, and Louis with his everything has decided he'll take care of him from this point on.

He switches the telly off, the part where Matilda and Leon are being hunted down by mills of cops in their temporary apartment being cut off, and Louis tenderly flips Harry over, makes him lie on his front. He leans down and whispers in his ear, "Gonna eat you out, yeah? Been wanting to do that to you... to your lovely bum. Would you like that, baby?" He kisses his cheek, digs his teeth on Harry's earlobe. "My tongue fuckin' you. Bet you taste good."

Nodding earnestly, despite himself, Harry croaks out weakly as he blinks at Louis dazedly, "Yes, please. Lou..."

And Louis almost cooed, itching to pinch Harry's annoyingly cute face, but alas he doesn't. He lifts up Harry's hips instead and urges the boy to arch his back to have his bum poised in the air, cheek pressed against the couch and his knees digging into the settee. Admiring the boy's ultimately submissive position, ogling his perky bum still clocked by his black leggings, Louis carefully reaches out and makes contact with Harry's clothed cheeks. Harry moans just from the touch, leaning into it responsively and then groans from the kneading, bucks up and rolls his hips from the greedy squeezing. Louis traces his fingertips along Harry's waistband and tugs, peeling the thing off, pulling his leggings down, and-- _shit_. Holy shit.

 _Harry's wearing a thong._ A peach lacy thong with a yellow ribbon at the terms. He didn't see this one coming. " _Harry_ ," Louis rasps, weakening at the knees, "you...you're...fuck..."

Harry lifts his head up and cranes his neck to look back over his shoulder then to Louis. "Surprise?" He sheepishly mumbles, grinning slyly and rather teasingly with those heavy lidded eyes, like the--the _right minx_ he is. Louis groans in pure lust and thirst, and he slaps Harry's arse cheek without a warning, making Harry's eyes grow as wide as golf balls. "Oh, _shit_ ," he gasps, startled, breathing going faster and ragged. Louis looks on as Harry's throat flushes animatedly slowly, the blooming red creeping up to his cheeks and nose, his eyes fluttering shut with the wonderfully painful sensation. He's so beautiful, Louis deems, so pretty and open like a rose when it blooms.

"You're so perfect, Harry. Christ," Louis grits out, slapping Harry's other arse cheek this time, as he lets the other one flush red little by little. It doesn't take long now for the other cheek that he's slapped just now to redden as well, same with Harry's face as he blushes with the genuine compliment.

"Lou, please, can--can you? Uh..." Harry keens after a while, wiggling his arse to Louis' face in earnest, desperate for something--for Louis' hot mouth. "Need your tongue in me, please. Fuck me with your tongue, sir..."

Sir? Then fuck yes. Yes. Louis almost rips out the thong off Harry as he leans in, the word sir lingering in his head, squeezing once again on each of Harry's arse cheeks, and then spreading them apart as he places soft kisses along Harry's thighs. He licks, he nips and he bites at the spots in there, and until he gets to Harry's pink and puckered hole, that fucking _thing_ he's seen countless time back on his laptop all those months prior, something he never thought he'd get to actually taste with his tongue one of these days. Like today. Or tonight. Here in his flat, right here on this couch.

_Hey fucking angel ninety fucking eight, you were once just a wild, crazy fantasy, a fucking dream, but now you're all mine. Never gonna let you go, baby._

Louis sticks out his tongue and licks a long and hard stripe across Harry's hole, no warning whatsoever, no finesse or demure, just filth and greed and nothing more. _He tastes like heaven._ Harry gasps out loud, and then shudders at the wetness feeling in between his arse. "Ooh... _ohh_ ," he exhales shakily, softly, making Louis kiss his entrance for good measure.

And Louis does it again, but this time he stays there, swirling his tongue and lapping it harshly against Harry's pumping hole, the tip of his tongue fucking inside him now and quick, taking residence around his clenching and unclenching rim. Harry whimpers and whines desperately, pushing his arse back and pressing it further into Louis' face, almost as if _sitting_ on him, with Louis' tongue fucking further and harder into his pinkish bum hole. Harry wails the next time Louis slaps harshly on both his arse cheeks for being so wiggly--fucking himself back to Louis' tongue so eagerly, meeting him halfway and being totally responsive--which has Louis eventually hearing murmurs of incoherence coming from him. He blabbers with such words varying from _coming_ and _please_ and _harder_ to _more_ , as though begging Louis to go rougher on him.

Louis grants his pleas then because of that and eats his arse out better, dancing tongue poking and jabbing harshly on his hole, grasps kneading at his cheeks and spreading them apart even wider, his nose buried in between. Harry cries a louder moan this time, rolling his hips and pushing back against Louis' eager tongue. _If that's what you want, kitten_ , thinks Louis darkly.

He gets a waft of the boy's strong smell as he continuously rims him, and Louis could've sworn his eyes almost crossed in bliss. Harry is just fifty shades of addicting. " _Lou, I'm gonna come!_ " Screams Harry all the sudden and, _God, he's so loud._

Not a minute too long now, with a few more thrusts of his quick tongue, Harry with his hand pumping on his own dick (Louis didn't see that one out of too much focus on eating him out, but maybe he should take full control the next time), Harry finally cries out as he shoots his load all over the couch, the room smelling of sex a lot stronger now than early on, rendering the drunk out of Louis just by sniffing it.

Louis scrambles to be on top of Harry in seconds flat and kisses him through his intense release, calming his breathing at once, the both of them slowly going down from their high and back to earth.

He pulls away from the kiss and blinks at the boy pliant and spent beneath him. They share a lazy smile, both still breathless and sweating. "That was... that was amazing," Harry exhales, voice hoarse.

Louis slowly breaks into a grin. "Yeah... You look incredible when you come, love," he praises, then presses kisses all over Harry's cheek and temple, "so pretty with your arse all red. Taste so good, too."

Harry blushes, sighing happily. "Best rim ever, Lou. Best boyfriend and... I suppose best tongue..." He murmurs, giggling. Louis laughs.

"Right then. Let's get you cleaned up, wait for me there," Louis utters out, and then he's standing up and rushing his way to the loo. He comes back later with a washcloth and he cleans Harry up, wiping the drying come off both their skin and even the ones on Harry's face from earlier. He puts the washcloth away and pulls Harry's thong and leggings back up for him, then they just stay and lie there on the couch.

They breathe as one, with Louis spooning Harry from behind, the boy resting limp and soft, bracketed in the safety and warmth of his arms.

Silence washes over the entire flat minutely, the cats now asleep somewhere (probably in Louis' bedroom) and it is only their synchronized exhales and inhales that are at once heard around the place. Louis still thinks he could get used to this.

"You know, I've never really asked, but...but I'm quite curious. Why did you pick me, Harry? Really?" He's rubbing idly on Harry's tummy as he questions, his chin getting tickled by Harry's curls. "Like, there are literally so many guys out there who fall like dominos at your feet, they're even your age who got much more potential than me, so like... really..."

Sighing, Harry holds on his hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing the knuckles. "Simple, Lou. Because you're the only man that's got me hooked and surrendering right from the get-go. Like...you didn't even have to be young, or whatever. You just literally had to be you. I picked you because you're you, there's no other reason for it anymore..."

Louis smiles, cuddling to him even tighter. "Ah... well. That's really...sweet of you, darling." What he really wants to say, _I love you._

Harry hums. "Mhmm. And I mean every word..." _But do you love me?_ He doesn't ask.

A beat, "Uhm. Harry?"

"Yeah, Lou?" He replies quickly, suppressing a yawn.

"How come I don't hear from you about your job anymore?" Frankly, Louis wants to slap himself from even asking, from trying to pry at all, but he's been wondering for quite some time now and he just wants to know...even if Harry would choose to lie. He'll take whatever.

Few heartbeats, Harry's frozen body inch by inch melts, and then he mumbles, clearly avoiding the subject, "I've dropped it. Uhm... I'm just, not happy about it anymore, I guess."

Louis raises a brow. "Oh? Why is that--"

"I think I'm falling..." Harry murmurs, voice so hushed Louis barely hears it.

So he asks, "What?" Louis is confused. Harry's falling? Or failing?

"Yep. And like, a mile fast... speedy," Harry tacks on, not making sense anymore, suppressing another yawn--a yawn that this time is more deliberate, like he's begging for Louis to just _drop it._

"Harry, what do you mean?" Louis presses, however.

He sighs. "Nothing, Lou, just--can we just sleep? Please?" He squeezes softly at Louis' hand, warm palm covering his.

And...okay, if this is what he wants, then fine. Louis is fine with it--he's fine with everything. "Okay."

Harry turns around and faces him after that, curling on himself as he nestles his face at the crook of Louis' neck, sighing in contentment. His breathing slowly evens a bit some time, and Louis can feel he's gone to sleep, finally. Louis blows out a sigh, and in resignation just wraps up the boy in his arms, as he urges himself to call it a night.

Maybe someday, he marvels before he drifts off, Harry would find it in himself to work up the strength to be honest with him somehow. Because he will love him no matter anyway, no matter what he does, so hopefully might as well just get it over and done with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter might take a while. but lengthy, lovely comments might just pump me up and write faster for that matter, so.
> 
> thank u for tuning in!!! :3


	10. i live for you, i long for you, 'ah lova yah ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hullo my babies. im so soooorry for the long wait!!! holiday seasons and all :~[ writer's block etc huhuh. but anyway, here you gooo!
> 
> \-- 4 months in. girly term of endearments for baby. a sick child and protective hubby, aww. schoolgirl thingy, and uhm...some other stuff that i won't leave hints for. hehe.
> 
> enjoy! xx

Everything's gone from laid back to hectic in what feels like a millisecond of moment in time. A-levels in SBA is approaching drastically and so are transferees who keep on coming despite the time of the year, with Christmas break just being right around the corner, and months of fall seasons and Halloween having given everyone whiplash without so much of a warning.

Louis' been busy with truckloads of paperwork in his hand and creating out of raw thinking for his kids' examination that's being held in a week from now, and so is Harry with his own no-cellphones-allowed method of studying every night after their classes and applying to universities in and out of town, so it's just a tangle of sleepless nights for both of them, brief Hi's and Hello's within the academy's premises, and stubborn squeezing of quality bonding time for Louis alone with his young boyfriend of now four months.

They've done a lot of get-together in the course of two months anyhow before this shit storm, went out on secret dates in far away towns from where they both live and shopped at Tesco, continuous visitations in each other's flats and movie nights (because that has officially become their thing now apparently), Louis still at the phase of respecting Harry and his--for him personally is precious--virginity and thus no all the way sex yet for them, and Harry sticking, still, upon not mentioning his little camboying secret agenda to Louis despite of how many times Louis has proved to him he's in it for the long haul. It's still okay with Louis though, however, even if it pains him to think Harry's got fears of coming clean to him under the reason of... perhaps Louis leaving him for it or much worse, becoming outright disgusted, because _fuck no_.

Louis won't--he will _never_ be disgusted, he's way past that point. Or rather he didn't even get to that point at all. He understands completely why Harry did it, he's not daft; he knows the reason why Harry had the need to, and the boy had been doing that for far too long even before they've met, so it shouldn't--doesn't--affect Louis whatsoever. He's quite matured about this, thank you. And the thing is, he loves Harry for who he is, has been loving him for what he is, and he knows for sure he'd still continue loving him for what he will become, so _really_. There's no point in hiding, no point in lying.

Louis to this day still hopes Harry would come to him in his own terms and confront the truth; Louis firmly believes that if that ever happened, Harry will finally be free of his own self-doubts and self-deprecating fears, and would be stopping from grasping for air too much, for the weight that goes with it will surely leave his shoulders in a way that he'd want it to.

In the way that _Louis_ wants it to, most especially.

In those two months, they drove around town, he and Harry, when Louis finally bought a car from this motors shop Felicite told him about, Lottie crying out a, "about time, you old goof!". Harry had been quite the cheeky boy he was the first time he became a passenger of it, saying he really, actually felt like Louis' baby girl now as he let the air breeze fan his hair, his head poking out the car's window. He was so precious, so young...so awesome in every way. Louis on the other hand had played with the idea for quite some time since he secretly knows Harry had a thing for role playing and stuff, calling Harry just that, _baby girl_ , using a certain tone, to which the boy himself inexplicably appreciates... It's weird, but it's cute, so Louis isn't thinking of stopping at any moment.

Besides, Harry admitted to Louis this one time they were spooning in the couch that he liked dressing as a girl, that he liked playing the housewife role, and Louis almost told him he _knows_. Fuck it, he knows. Opted with taking it lightly and rather calmly like it was to be expected, Louis only nodded and said, "okay then, come here, wifey, give hubby a big kiss," and Louis swore to whoever god there is Harry's eyes _lit_ up at the girly nickname. Like fairylights and luminous flux luces, his green eyes glowed, setting Louis' heart on fire and his pulses to thump rapidly, his breath to hitch from deep within his lungs. Harry is ironically the epitome of freedom and confidence, and Louis is so in love with him.

Given the moments they've shared, Louis learned a few more things about Harry.

One is he loves it when Louis plays with his hair, purrs like a kitten when Louis' fingers get tangled in his curls, loves it when Louis calls him sweet, and absolutely loves the fact that Louis is a family-oriented kind of guy.

He's known about Louis' sisters and brother now, inevitably so, and had wanted to meet them since--but then they've conceded upon opposing to the idea later on anyway, and agreed their relationship is yet to be accepted by the public and or their families, seeing as their age gap is still serving as a big cockblocker, so they immediately let the thought go. Harry might've cried just a bit in Louis' arms after their little talk, Louis still is somehow boggled with how matured the boy's way of thinking is for his age even at this point.

On another note, given the circumstances as of late, Louis has not yet seen Harry without looking so tired and worn out these past few days, showing up to school with bags under his pretty green eyes, the glows in them absent as he sat in Louis' class, mostly just idling. Something's not right, Louis thinks--or he _knows_. But what is it?

He wants to ask Harry today, wants to get some answers out of him regarding his sleeping schedule, but the problem is though, he isn't present in class. And it worries Louis even more, wondering why. From looking like death to not showing up altogether; how bad is it that he has the need to stay at home?

He looks at Cara and the other girls at the back, biting his lip as he clutches the clipboard, thinking of perhaps going over to them and asking, but. But he deems that would make him seem creepy, so...he'll refrain. Despite he's so against finding out through text, Louis has no choice but to unlock his drawer under the desk and pull out his phone. He writes Harry a text, _**Baby, where are you ?**_

Harry replies eleven to twelve minutes later, when Louis' starting to stress, **_Got the flu..._** , says the text, and--Louis blinks back at it. He got the... Oh, fuck.

Not thinking at all, or really, getting flooded by bunches of worst case scenarios all at once, Louis scrambles up to his feet and hurries to shove his stuff in his messenger bag, looking up to face the class right after. "I need to--emergency--" are the only things he managed to articulate before he's rushing out the doors, heart beating like crazy in his chest.

He gets to leave an entire student body baffled and confused at his wake, and all he can only care about is how Harry must be feeling right at this moment. Louis is aware he's being such a terrible, terrible prof, but he's more concerned with being a good boyfriend right now, so. Being an excellent teacher be damned.

As he makes it out the hallways, Louis' first instinct is to get by the principal's office at the mezzanine floor. He gets there and he is greeted by the melancholic sound system the air conditioned room is playing in the background, and then the blinding smile of one Cleo Agatha. "Mr. Tomlinson! To what do I owe this--"

"Good day, ma'am," he cuts in quickly without intending to, the adrenaline rush taking over his sanity. Louis immediately grimaces after realizing, nodding his apologies to the woman. Lucky him she understands just fine, waving him off to proceed. "Right, uh. I need to take an early leave, ma'am? There's an emergency at home, and I need to take care of it and quickly. I've finished my class halfway, and now my kids are just answering some quiz I've prepared three days beforehand. I'll have someone gather their papers and send them back at the faculty."

The woman sizes him up, and then looking down at a paper in her hand. Seemingly thinking about it, Louis braces himself for the worst. But then she's suddenly nodding her head, and then humming softly. "Alright, Mr. Tomlinson, I'll let you go. But I need you to be in your class tomorrow, intiendes?"

Louis nods, and he thinks he hasn't nodded that quite vigorously all his damn life. _Intiendes_.

He rushes out the room as soon as she dismisses him with a smile and another courteous nod.

Louis _strangely_ bumps with Eleanor _of all people_ as he goes, but he doesn't bother until she calls on him.

He stops on his tracks, feeling goosebumps trickling up his skin just by about being faced with this girl for frankly the first time ever since he and Harry; he knows for a fact Eleanor is the wisest amongst their 'girl gang' is the thing, and Louis can feel the maturity that's radiating from her and also coursing through her veins, from the way she keeps her thoughts to herself 99.9% of the time, letting her friends do the honors of being silly, and as well as her curious, observant looks that she throws at Louis wherever Harry is involved. Louis didn't sign up for this moment to ever come.

"Yes, Miss Calder?" Louis assents nevertheless, keeping his cool, despite he's at the verge of running off the scene, all but wanting to get to Harry's side and maybe spoon-feed him with something hot that would make him feel a whole lot better.

"Sorry to corner you like this, but I think you need to talk to him. Not just talk, but talk _talk_ ," says Eleanor in one whoop, no hesitation in her tone whatsoever, no traces of beating around the bush with the look in her eyes. Louis is taken aback by her confrontational opening, her stance, everything; this girl clearly knows about Harry's camboying and his and Louis' relationship behind everyone's back, which earns her her credibility perhaps, and just how much Louis will trust her with the rest of the information she's about handing.

Louis fake-coughs. "Talk to him. Of course, I intend--"

"Think he's got the flu from working himself up so much," she forges on, not giving Louis a chance to talk shit, probably. "He's replaced the job he gained easy money from with something else that needs physical strength and too much energy that exhausted him into being awfully ill, just because he thinks he's being unfair to you. You're... you're that important to him. And you'll know why, if only you'd talk to him."

She's being vague at best, the way she's phrasing her words making Louis rather confused, but reading between the lines, deep inside Louis knows just what she means, and it renders a blooming blush out of Louis' heated up face.

"What do you mean?" He has to ask, clearing his throat.

"He hasn't told you then. Guess I figured right from the start, but I chose to keep quiet..." At this, Louis' eyebrows crease, and his heart starts to pound hard from his chest. He wants Eleanor to just get to the point, wants to tell her, but then she's already talking, "Well, Harry hasn't paid for his tuition twice already, Mr. Tomlinson. He looked for a job months ago and what he found available ensued heavy workload." Eleanor shakes her head, frowning seriously. "I swear to god, he's so gone for you. He-- he's been scrubbing an entire floor of an office building, needing to pay for the last term in order to take the exam."

"He, _what_?" Louis blinks at her, jaw-dropped shocked about this information.

"Over fatigued, Mr. Tomlinson," she says simply, concern never dissipating from her facial expression.

Louis swallows hard, eyes casting downwards as he pictures his frail boyfriend scrubbing square metres of floors at some building, sniffling and stretching every once in a while, all because he's got such bad back and he's doing that in exchange to lying in bed and pleasuring himself in front of the camera, and it's all because of Louis--because Harry didn't think that being a camboy would be fair to Louis. Which, fuck, Harry _loves_ him. Cares for him. And this has to stop, the lying and the hiding; he doesn't need Harry to sacrifice so much just for him. His health is more important, his comfort and limited capabilities as well. Harry doesn't for one second need to beat himself up just for Louis, or anyone for that matter.

Taking a sharp breath, Louis exhales loudly just as he nods his head firmly, "Thank you for telling me, Eleanor."

She nods firmly as well. "Just please take care of him."

"I will." He nods. He looks at her. "I will."

♡♡♡♡

Riding the tube back to his and Harry's usual stop didn't take much longer now--long like when they go home during the nights after dismissals--and Louis eventually finds himself in front of Harry's flat in no time. Back in his class, he trusts Eleanor to collect everyone's examination papers and bring them by the faculty room to hand over to Liam.

Using the duplicated key Harry let him have three weeks in to their relationship, Louis unlocks his teal door and steps inside quicker than normal. He drops his things on Harry's couch and toes off his shoes, tossing them at the doorstep, not caring if they serve as a mess. Instead he calls out, "Harry? Baby?" as he scurries off to where he expects Harry will be. In his room.

Despite being Harry's boyfriend for months now, Louis has sworn to himself he'll never invade the younger boy's privacy, ever (since even he himself still couldn't believe he's got a 17 year-old as his other half), not unless needed like now--or just when the boy's given him permission outright, out loud. And that is why, when Louis finally steps a foot inside the mystery bedroom, he's slapped with the reality yet again; that this is heyangel98's "camboy studio", that this place is exactly where he records himself, as well as this is the venue of the videos made Louis had watched and wanked to, _payed for_.

He blinks, drinking in the made of pastel bedroom in awe, inhaling the wonderful scent it contains, defusing scented candles lingering in the cold, brisk air. Louis is mesmerized and blanked out for a moment while he stands there, seeing the framed pictures and books aligned neatly at some desk (that he never saw in heyangel98's videos), a massive wardrobe on one corner, floral curtains drawn back nearby some tripod (that heyangel98 probably uses for his recordings), everything, reducing him to this speechless former avid sub of said twink. But then his gaze drops on the boy lying limp beneath some layers and layers of thick floral comforters though, witnessing just a fraction of him stirring, and that is quite enough to bring Louis back to the now. He rushes towards him, gingerly lifting the terms.

"Lou?" Harry croaks out in an instant having recognized his presence, heavy lids prying open slowly, "why are you--here," and then there goes his coughing fit rumbling awfully from his throat, cutting him off. Louis feels gutted just by hearing that, the hoarseness of Harry's voice slicing through his hearing senses. He frowns, reaching out to touch.

"Baby, sshh, just--don't mind me, yeah? I'll take care of you. I'm just. I need--wait here, I'll--I'll be right back," he rattles on in a slightly panicking way, hissing when his palm collides with Harry's scalding hot skin. Which, shit. He's burning hot.

Hurrying out the room, Louis gets by the kitchen and pulls out a pan from under the counter, filling it up quickly with just the right amount of tap water. He boils it afterwards and then goes for Harry's cupboards, looking for something he can scrounge up in order to make some soup.

Thankful that Harry is the kind to stock up some various ingredients and veggies in his kitchen, some condiments, the like, Louis after minutes has successfully made something to feed to Harry, to make his tummy occupied and his temperature to simmer.

Even though he knows he isn't any good with cooking, Louis still pushed himself considering it's for Harry. Because Louis will fucking try his hardest just to make him feel better again, see, no questions.

Going back inside his bedroom, a tray of soup, a glass of water and some paracetamol in hand, Louis gets to Harry's side just in time for the boy to let out yet another series of coughing.

Louis winces, placing the tray on the nightstand, going for Harry's face to cup it. "Lou... you didn't need to, you know," Harry is mumbling, grogginess coating his voice and eyes and body, his face all pale even his naturally red lips. Louis neglects it--he neglects it all with his might--just helping Harry up to his back, so he can sit up and Louis can feed him.

After a few more coaxing that were apparently still needed, like every ill boy would demand Louis supposes, Louis at last has got Harry opening his mouth for him, spoonfuls of warm chicken with ginger tidbits soup being shoved in it, a glass of water also being handed to him later together with the pill.

Louis watches Harry swallow everything down, his heartbeats little by little slowing, seeing Harry's cheeks a tad flushing with colors again. "That's my good baby," Louis murmurs as he takes the glass from Harry, settling it aside and helping Harry back down on the pillows.

Harry looks up at him and smiles hazily, mumbling something that vaguely sounds like, "good boyfriend," making Louis' stomach all warm and fuzzy. It gets swarmed by wriggling butterflies quite instantly, his cheeks heating up by degrees, feeling so fond of his boy. Louis leans in and drops a kiss to Harry's forehead, lingering just a little bit longer as he closes his eyes, feeling it hot against his lips. He still has to wipe some lukewarm washcloth all over Harry's body.

Redeeming himself up, Louis lets the boy nap for a while, carding his fingers through his drying curls, and then taking the tray out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Coming back inside Harry's bedroom after he's washed the bowl, the spoon and the glass, Louis' ears are filled with Harry's soft snores, an indication he's fallen back to sleep, and it is only then that Louis gets the chance to take a bit of a tour inside of heyangel98's "work room".

Don't get Louis wrong, he mentally cringes at the idea of still calling his _own freaking boyfriend_ by his camboy username, but the fact that Louis first had been an avid sub to the boy before becoming his other half makes it all the more necessary.

He doesn't want to refer to Harry as both simultaneously, see, wants to separate his camboy self and his normal self, so Louis still addresses him as that in his head at times like this. And it should be fine; Louis loves both versions anyway, is not ashamed of the camboy Harry, and most definitely not the lovely, virgin Harry who is his boyfriend and precious little baby.

As Louis looks around, Harry napping soundly in his comfy king-sized bed, he sees a couple of things astray--like Harry's leather bound journal that he sees occasionally at school thrown haphazardly at a chair, a couple of colorful patterned boxers, some lace knickers he sees on Harry when he rims or fingers him in his couch, some glow-in-the-dark star stickers that must've fallen from the ceiling--and Louis, admittedly, is amused by how so typical this room is after all.

All those months ago, Louis thought it'd be rather magical; a place where he'd find himself all flustered and melting because of the number of kinky sex toys he'd spot scattered across the floor (which, he didn't actually), and just some other stereotypical expectations a fan would create about their sensations in their tiny delusional heads. But boy is Louis so wrong though, that he knows now...

Then again, walking back to Harry's bed where he lies motionless, Louis forces his mind to just _stop thinking about it_ , that that isn't his place to invade, that he's not insane yet to speculate, but.

See, the wardrobe by the corner is an utter big distraction for Louis, and he can't seem to help himself but look up and stare at it for a lot longer than the rest he's taken a time to acknowledge in this beautiful, neatly crafted and prettily decorated bedroom, because deep inside he knows if he opens it, he might see some _things_ he never would have thought he will in person.

Like Harry's many collections of buttplugs and dildos for example. Also, his costumes for _Thursdays_.

Well, taking a deep, deep breath, his nose flaring with it, Louis chooses to just leave the room altogether and searches for something else to do instead.

As he should, Louis decides to hang around Harry's flat the entire day and do stuff for him while he's at it.

He goes out his way to put all the clothes he sees lying across the hallway and the living room away, even the bras he also sees inside the guest room that he knows are of Cara's or Kendall's ("They come here all the time," Harry had told him one day, when he was topless sat on Louis' lap on his couch. "Oh," Louis had breathed out, afraid that if that was the case then the chances of Cara and Kendall walking in on them like that was part crucial. But then Harry had saved him from his racing mind miles a second, saying, "Yeah. In fact, they should be here by now. Hmm, change of plans, maybe," and that had been that).

Anyway, as he gathers all types of dirty clothes around the flat, Louis throws them in a hamper and proceeds to vacuum clean Harry's furry carpeted floors, draws the curtains back and dusts free Harry's shelves and other furniture.

He comes back inside Harry's bedroom for the third time that day, and by then Louis has arranged a bowl of lukewarm water for him, some alcohol in it, together with a washcloth he snatched from the loo.

Harry's still asleep when he steps in there, and he chooses that moment to scrub on his rosy pink skin with the use of the dampened washcloth, just as he's stripped the boy off his pastel mint pyjama top and bottoms.

Harry's skin--his delicate body--as always, has Louis in stitches; it's smooth, soft and clear is the thing, thoroughly taken cared of by consuming multiple vitamins and lots and lots of fruits that he eats like a mantra of sorts, and Louis is just this lucky man who gets to have a feel of it. Even on a daily, no less, and that graces a smile across his lips, once again finding himself practically fonding over the boy.

He takes his precious time with scrubbing limbs by limbs of Harry, going for his left arm first, hand clasping the boy's cold and pliant one, and then shifting to his right arm, being gentle all the more. After that, he goes for his legs and thighs, admiring each of them, and perhaps taking a wee bit longer than before. He scrubs on his torso next, watching out for his nipples which are amiably sensitive, and then his neck and face, stopping at his forehead, leaving the dampened washcloth there. Louis pulls the comforter up to Harry's chin again once he's done, managing not to wake the boy up completely.

Before leaving the room as he straightens up slowly, Louis deems it's just so heart aching sometimes that doing this reminds him a lot of when he was back in Doncaster and was taking care of his little sisters--because that's just how much he minds Harry Styles dearly. Like he's family.

♡♡♡♡

Harry wakes up before the sun sets, yet with the moon already present in the orange hued skies, and by that time Louis' sagged over the couch munching on some takeaway box, the TV remote straying right beside him.

"Lou?" Harry calls out, voice throaty from his rough coughing probably, soft and sleep rumpled from head to toe. He's wearing nothing except for his mini boxers, and Louis drops everything just rush to his side quickly, wrapping him up with a hug to somewhat share some body heat.

"Why didn't you bring the blanket, you goof. It's cold out here," scolds Louis almost instantly, rubbing on Harry's arm to sedate him.

The boy lets out a cough, just one, and that in itself already has Louis scrambling for the doorknob of his bedroom and running towards Harry's wardrobe.

As expected he's met with neat alignment of hanged clothes and folded shirts from beneath, some couple of drawers from the bedrock part and some other undergarments. Louis ignores the urge from within him to inspect those bedrock drawers, aware they could be _the_ drawers for heyangel98's role play costumes, and then just goes for a new pair of pyjama top and bottoms. He grabs a thick sweater too, and then some socks on a pile, stepping out of the room afterwards.

Harry's already settled on the couch by the living room, and Louis' relieved to see he's at least regained some color to his lips and cheeks, even down to his throat and chest. Which can only mean he's got a lower temperature now from before. Good.

Louis gets to where Harry is, and then he dresses him up in a haste, the ill boy just going along with it, letting Louis take control of everything, arms loose and gangly.

It's truly cold out here, see, despite the heater's on, and the nearing Holidays season very well explains that. Louis needs his boy secured and thoroughly taken cared of, most especially that he's known he's caught a bug because of _Louis_. Harry literally chose a physical strength requiring type of job over some easy money by just being obscene type of job, all because he thinks he's being unfair to Louis. Louis owes him this--although Louis doesn't need to be indebted just to do this. He's born to make Harry feel special, to make Harry feel better, and to make sure he's got everything he needs.

As Louis finishes dressing Harry up, he moves to the kitchen next and makes them some tea. He brings them back later, and with another paracetamol for Harry to swallow down. "Thank you, Lou. You're a godsend..."

"Mhmm. And you're my angel," he replies simply, kissing the top of Harry's head.

Later in the evening, they continue to lounge about in Harry's living area, just pretending to watch some cheap telenovela playing softly on the telly, while Harry nuzzles against Louis' side, the same blanket wrapped around the both of them.

Louis cards his fingers through Harry's curls, feeling him completely being left off of his fever by the second, sniffing as he scoots closer and closer under Louis' arm. They've finished up the rest of the takeaways Louis ordered earlier, and this time, Louis' just making Harry drink lots of fluids to keep himself hydrated.

"Did you skip lessons?" Harry asks after a while, his words muffled by Louis' shirt, his hot breath seeping through the fabric and washing over Louis' skin. It hypes up Louis for some reason.

"I did," Louis answers shortly, however, nodding. "I've got Eleanor to collect their test papers though to bring them back in the faculty room, so it's all good."

Harry nods, and then he yawns. "Talked to Principal Agatha?"

"Yup." Louis pops the _p_ , hand going around Harry's shoulders to keep him locked in.

"So, I reckon the girls were present."

"Yeah, babe. They all are. You were the only absent today, in fact." A pregnant pause submerges just as Louis' muttered that information, thinking about the other _thing_ , before he's taking a deep breath and craning his neck to face Harry's curled up figure next to him. "Say... you didn't get to take your exams today. I'll take care of that for you, yeah? Do you think you can attend tomorrow? I'll leave you in 2D to take it for free."

"Lou..." Harry sighs. "You don't have to--"

"But I _want_ to. You have to anyway. And besides, you want to graduate, right? Then you will take the exam I'll be preparing for you tomorrow, for _free_." Louis grabs on Harry's chin just to tip it up and kiss him sloppily. "I got chu', baby."

"But _Lewis_ ," Harry whines, shaking his head petulantly, and Louis just smiles at this, since he knows he's already won. Then again, Harry's still not quitting with the whining, so Louis has no choice but to headlock him playfully albeit gently, and let their noses brush in an Eskimo kiss. That effectively shuts Harry up, giggling and making grabby hands for Louis' cheeks, pinching them and cooing. "You take good care of me, Lou. Thank you again. Can't thank you enough, dear."

"Mhmm," Louis hums appreciatively, cheeks burning with so much affection for his boy. He rubs circles against Harry's hip and won't stop peppering chaste kisses atop Harry's forehead, lips feeling tingly with each press. All of Louis' worries from earlier are slowly dissipating now as it is, seeing as Harry's just percents far ahead of being fully ill-free. Thankfully.

While they muck about like they usually do when occupying a couch--any couch, really--sudden knocks on the door interrupt them mid-tickling war, making them jump and quiet down, and it's Harry who speaks first after a moment, almost sounding unsure. "Oh," is what he breathes out, murmuring, "it came."

Blinking at him, Louis chases the sinking feeling that's quick to take place in his tummy and tries his best to keep looking passive. "What is it?" He asks.

"Uhm. Just something I bought online. Uh, hold on, lemme just..." He didn't even finish his sentence anymore, slipping off of Louis' hold and padding towards the door. He opens it and Louis can only vaguely see a sliver of hat from some delivery guy, watch Harry sign something from a clipboard, and then lastly a package he's carrying in his arms as he retreats back.

It's a bit large, the package, but seeing the state Harry's in as he carries it, it doesn't seem heavy. Louis watches as he drops the box on the floor beside the armrest, the sound a soft flop. There he sees the name of the company: _Sanrio ® UK_. Louis can only guess it's something that has to do with his camboying (judging the fact he's dodgy about the matter despite Louis has yet to ask further), and can't help but think that maybe Harry's doing one tonight. Tomorrow is a Thursday, his once 'favourite day', and he is damn sure Harry's doing a role play--conceivably wearing whatever is in that package.

It'll be an asshole move, but. "What's it for?" Louis still dares.

Harry doesn't look at him when he answers, "Just. Something," quite vaguely, too, mind. But then when he takes a seat next to Louis again, he hugs him and looks up to direct his gaze straight into Louis' eyes. Then, "Can I tell you something? Like, can I... can I be honest with you?"

He's shaking as he says it, it sounded in his voice. His green eyes are glassy as he locks gazes with Louis, and--all Louis can think about are endless _what if's_ that may come out of Harry's lips only if he says yes. Not thinking evenly, Louis nods at him. "Yeah, of course, baby."

Harry smiles nervously--he smiles nervously, and Louis' heart skips a beat. "Okay, so... I know we're barely at half a year in this relationship, like, technically we just started dating and all, but..." Harry lets out a breath, and reaches up to cup Louis' face in his giant paws. He looks at him intensely. "Lou, you're my first boyfriend. And, like, probably will be my last if only you would make it possible for us. And I... I just wanna say that I love you." He swallows, closing his eyes. "Very much," he whispers out.

Louis is, at this point, melting internally. Screaming, celebrating in his head. He's catching his breath, willing his pounding heart to calm down, so maybe he can respond quickly enough to avoid that forming frown across Harry's lips as the time passes and he still hasn't said anything. But then he blinks back to his senses, right, and he grabs harshly on Harry's shirt, pulling him even closer. The younger boy gasps, inaudibly, and then Louis hisses to him finally, subconscious wild, "I fucking love you too, baby. So much, you-- you don't understand." He moves up his hands to settle at the back of Harry's head, fingers tangling through his curls, the boy visibly gulping, and then he proceeds from there, chest heaving deeply, "I love you when I first saw you, Haz," he's saying, breathless, "I love you when I heard you laughed for the first time; I love you when you eat with me, I love you when we watch those weird Indie films you bring all the time, and just, I love you when I see you every morning looking so beautiful coming in my class, and even when you're looking very tired, my productive, hardworking baby. I just--," he takes a deep breath. Exhales shakily, so pure of affection for Harry, "--I just really, really love you a lot, and I'm a fucked up for not saying it from before."

Harry shakes his head, blinking as two beads of tears roll down his eyes. Louis is quick to wipe them. "I wish I could kiss you right now, Lou, but I don't want to pass my virus to your system."

Louis laughs half-heartedly, holding onto Harry tighter. "Oh, hush it, H, just-- kiss me, I dare you."

Averting his gaze from Louis' eyes to his lips, and then back to his eyes again, Harry surges forward like he's telling himself _oh, fuck it_ , and crashes his lips against Louis' as hard as he could manage. Their lips mold sweetly and passionately against each other, with Harry clinging so tight to Louis, and Louis pulling Harry into his lap. And it's like sparks are bursting at the seams of their moving mouths from there, butterflies flying around their pressed bodies, and fireworks exploding as they snog. It's quite magical, heated and a bit messy, but it's perfect at the same time.

They cuddle for the rest of the time Louis is there in Harry's flat, everything else completely abandoned.

♡♡♡♡

When Louis goes home later after making sure Harry's going to be alright by himself, he has this itching feeling that just wouldn't stop nagging at him, telling him that he needs to check Harry's account at [paypercome.com](http://paypercome.com/), and perhaps inspect. But not because he doesn't trust Harry though, because it's the other way around if any, but because he's concerned about the boy--since he cares about him a lot.

So he fires it up then, the site, just as he's flopped down on his bed done with all his duties around the flat, a hot cocoa on his nightstand, with Saturn snuggled at his legs, Lee lying on the small veranda in his bedroom.

As the site loads up on the screen of his laptop, Louis drags the cursor with his index finger's pad just as it finally completes, and taps on a couple of 'close' buttons to exit a few pop-up ads, to which has him eventually meeting with some thumbnails of some twinks suckling on dicks, some milfs executing creampies, some 'incest' actions, and many others more. Louis refuses to waste any more time and navigates through the site, going to his list of subscribed channels, and--and he squints his eyes, narrowing his gaze as he spots heyangel98's icon.

From a picture of a 15, probably to 16 year-old Harry with his mouth open and gagging on a red ball with a black strap around his head, topless with his pert pink nipples exposed, the icon now has gone to just a black one and nothing more. It's exactly just that-- _black_.

Louis furrows his eyebrows at this new information, tapping on it twice.

The profile loads up, as it always does, and upon blinking a few times at it, it took Louis a few dumb moments before he's finally realizing that _that is it_. That upon thinking of there would be more that he'd be waiting for to buffer completely, Louis was presented with the reality of: 'that is it'. The background is not a pastel pink anymore is the thing, but just an all out jet-black one, and the videos--they're all _gone_. It's like a black hole, no HQ videos, Daily ones, and just, there's nothing there anymore. Well, except for--

Except for Harry's Bio? Oh, but even his Bio was also reconstructed.

_Hello there. It's me, your favourite twink. Haha... shit. I hate calling myself that on this site if I'm honest, but I suppose that's what you guys want, so I guess I'll just go along with it._

_Anyway, that's not why I came back._

Wait, what? He just came back then? Is that what he meant by this certain phrase? So that means he left. But now he just came back. But why?

Louis scans through Harry's Bio, passing by a few graphics and ads. And until he stops.

_I came back because of a few things:_

_1\. I still owe some of you a video. A recent one too. Yes, I am not gonna break my promise, folks. I'll record a new video for you all, just so I can check you off my list completely. No debts for me, no more balances for you, we'll all be good._

_2\. Secondly, I want to make a farewell video as it turned out, so there's that. The video I'll be making will also serve as my farewell video. I'm really doing this after all - closing my account for good. Guess that's just how it is when you finally fell in love, huh? :) you're willing to give everything up just for them_.

Fuck. Oh God. Harry's gonna make him cry. In the most ridiculous instance too, mind. And that is while he's stalking his camboy account, like, right now. Jeez.

Louis sniffles.

_3\. Thirdly, because I want to thank everyone for all the support they gave me. You, them, him, her. Without your loyalty and consistency, I wouldn't have made it anywhere near where I am now. Because I'm almost graduating now! Can you believe it? And it's because of all the incomes this account has granted me. So again, thank you. It's been a hell of a ride for me; I've learned quite a lot. And now I'm gonna head the other direction now... so I guess I'll see you lot around? :)_

_4\. Ohhh, wait! That's not the end of it. Never thought there'd be a four, but waaah. Here we goooo. The last one is the fear of getting caught - I wanna tell you about this. Like, you know. Getting caught by someone I care about so much? I'll be leaving all of this behind to avoid that. I'd rather get all scrawny and looking like death than to lose that one person I want to spend the rest of my life with. So, if you ever see me in person, or like, bumped with me on the streets with my boyfriend one of these days, can I kindly request that you make hush-hush about this whole thing? :( please? I don't want him to know, I can't lose him. So please, just between you and me; don't tell. Don't. I'll die._

_Sooo, that's all then._

_Wait for my last video, yes? Which will be uploaded tomorrow, at 3:45 PM GMT, that will cover up everything else. That video will only last a week before I will be deleting the entirety of this account, including that last role play vid. So make sure you'd be there when I upload it!!!_

_All the love, heyangel98 .X_

Louis finishes reading. And for the millionth time ever since Harry Styles became a part of his life, he's gone completely tongue tied, which, there's no denying in that.

But given everything he's found out just now, all being such honest feelings put into words to be posted online for his 357K subs to see, it took Louis a bit more scrolling and idling and _pondering_ before he finally fucking realizes that Harry is truly dead serious about him. About _them_. And that he's doing this rather reckless move because he doesn't want for Louis to leave him, which, _fuck, Louis doesn't think he could ever_ , and his mind just whirls back to the words said to him by Eleanor herself this afternoon.

_"He's replaced the job he gained easy money from with something else that needs physical strength and too much energy that exhausted him into being awfully ill, just because he thinks he's being unfair to you. You're that important to him. And you'll know why, if only you'd talk to him."_

If only Louis talked to Harry. _If only Louis talked to Harry_. Fuck. Of course.

_"I swear to god, he's so gone for you. He's been scrubbing an entire floor of an office building, needing to pay for the last term in order to take the exam."_

Well, shit. Shit. What else does Louis need in order for him to take action in regards to this situation anyway, seriously? Nothing. There is none, is there?

And so he bolts right up from his position in bed, startling his cats as he hurries out the door, grabbing on his keys by the bowl and shrugging on his coat. He slips on the first pair of slippers he stumbles upon on his way to the front door and hits the streets in record time without even bothering to lock his door. He needs to get back to Harry's flat, _pronto_.

♡♡♡♡

He makes it back to Harry's front door just like the first time today, but unlike when he was wearing actual decent clothing, he's just in his PJs now, with his green pea coat, and mismatched slippers that he didn't notice until now, as he was rushing to get here. His hair is a complete mess, and his breath smells of his minty toothpaste, his breathing coming in quick puffs. He's practically sprinted his way over here like a troubled parent, because _he needs to talk to Harry._

With determined heart, Louis as he's shaking lifts up a hand that is balled into a fist, stepping closer to the door. He swallows thickly, and then he's knocking on the door multiple times since he forgot to bring his duplicate key. _He must confront things with him, it's time_.

But then, no response.

Louis tries again, and still there's no response. Going for the doorknob for checking, Louis sighs in relief when it twists in his grip and the door opens smoothly. He lets himself in, not spotting Harry anywhere in the living area nor the kitchen, which leaves him to go to his bedroom, letting pass crashing the guest room altogether (only because he and Harry both know Kendall and Cara have christened that room time and time already that it always smelt of rabbit sex, therefore they both know Harry won't ever dare).

When Louis opens the door to Harry's bedroom, meanwhile, the first thing he says is, "Fuck," which to him is totally understandable and probably to some as well, because what he finds is Harry sat on his bed in a fucking schoolgirl uniform complete with the knee high black socks and green silk bow tie, holding what Louis can make out is a massive cyan dildo, ready to be pushed in his hole, a shocked look on his pretty face, a camera set on a tripod a couple of feet beside him.

"L-Louis," stammers the boy who looks so closely to a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and jaw dropped, curls tied in up in fucking _pigtails_. And, fuck. To fuck him is what Louis wants to do to him right now, just to be blunt, seeing him like this, but he knows there are still 'bigger important things' that they need to discuss before they get to that part, so he refrains himself from lunging on Harry and towering over his sexy body on the bed, choosing to keep his distance just in case.

Louis looks at Harry and the dildo and the camera rather wordlessly, aware that he's shooting another video tonight. And then he shakes his head when he notices Harry's chin that is already at the verge of _quivering_ , as if he's about to burst out in tears. Louis tries as he walks further, cautious as hell, "Harry. Baby--," but he is soon cut off when Harry finds his voice again.

"It's-- Louis, it's not what you think--," he begins to say, trembling and caught off-guard and ready to explain, but Louis doesn't ever need an explanation, does he? He knows absolutely _everything_.

"Harry, baby," Louis repeats himself, this time consulting and calmer, like what to Harry thinks he's just found out to this second is not at all odd to him--which, yeah, it isn't. He only felt a bit overwhelmed though if he's honest, because well, he's such a big fan of Harry's role play video, right? And that having seen it for the first time in _person_ has rather got him all weak in the knees. Regardless, it doesn't have to do at all with Louis feeling disgusted by the idea of this whole thing, not even a tiny bit close. He _adores_ camboy-Harry, that's why. He adores every single detail and fact about him. Like, even before they got together.

Louis watches as Harry closes his hanging mouth bit by bit, watches on as the boy scrambles up to his feet to shut the camera off that was apparently still rolling, and then he just stands there, facing Louis. "What--what are you--I thought you've--," he gestures with his hands (his shaking hands, bless) as he tries to articulate words but to no avail, "--I thought you've gone--gone home?" He squeaks out that last part, and Louis is just so in love with him, really. He can never get mad at him.

In the end, he just walks his way towards Harry without saying anything, stopping right in front of him.

Out of being yet possessed under adrenaline rush, Louis' body's first instinct is to wrap Harry up in a massive warm hug, feeling the boy freeze in his chest.

He closes his arms fiercely around the younger boy's petite body, the boy's scent spilling his nostrils as he leans in, his senses telling him Harry's left of his fever now, and he's so close as well, that his lips are touching Harry's ear. And then, "It's okay, baby. I know," he tells him.

He feels Harry move a fraction against him, as if perking up, breath audibly catching on his throat. "Louis... what... what did you..."

"I said," Louis sighs, a small smile creeping on his face, "I know."

Harry pushes him off a little at that, very gently now, fingers curled into fists pressed against Louis' chest. The boy looks at him, blinking and swallowing. "You know...what?" He whispers, vulnerable and little--looking so unsure. His cheeks are so pink Louis aches to snog him senseless.

Licking his lips, so mesmerized and smitten at the gorgeous looking twink, Louis tells him honestly, without a hint of malice and mocking lacing his soft voice, "About your job, Haz. About your account. About you being a camboy." It's admittedly quite amazing how Harry's facial expression changes as Louis tells him all of this, how his eyebrows would furrow, and then soften, and for his mouth to go all slacked. Louis wants to kiss him, but he must proceed, so he does, "I know everything, Harry. _Everything_."

And, Louis doesn't even really know what he expected for Harry to react or say, once he finally confessed about this secret he's hidden for all these months, but what he hears next from the boy, he can justify, was definitely not one of them. "You-- you knew all along? A-and you're... you're still not running away from me? Or-- or leaving me?"

His heart aches. Louis' heart aches at this, about hearing Harry say it out loud like this, and he just can't help it anymore. He shuts Harry's mouth close by pressing his lips against his, hearing Harry squeak weakly through it, and when he redeems himself, Louis tells him easily while he's tasting a hint of Harry's chapstick on his tongue, "I knew all along, yes, and I still love you very much," because that's the fucking truth, and he refuses to lie to Harry anymore. He's just so done with lying. And hiding. And beating around the bush. _Done_.

Shaking his head, Harry looks down in between them, looking lost, as if he can't believe what's happening right now, which, Louis can't really blame him on that one. Everything seems quite surreal after all; just like how he'd never thought he'd have Harry in a schoolgirl attire be barricaded in his arms one day. "You... you're not flinching at this, I don't--I don't understand." He exhales breathily. "I-- I'm such a whore, and you--," he looks back up to lock gazes with Louis' kind eyes, "--you're not disgusted? You even said you still love me."

Louis has the decency to chuckle, albeit softly. "Yeah... I'm not going anywhere if that's what you're worried about, Haz. I fucking love you too much to do so. I would never."

Harry's confused and unbelieving demeanor start to change from that point on, shoulders sagging and body going inexplicably pliant in Louis' hold, and that's when Louis sees it. Those tears at the brims of his lovely green eyes. "Lou... _Louis_..." Harry begins to cry, rubbing furiously on his eyes, and he is this teenaged young boy again, that Louis has learned to love all these months since he's met him.

"Sshh, darling, my wifey, my baby girl," Louis ramble-coos, pulling Harry to hug him more securely in his arms, making him feel reassured and loved and _accepted_. That he's totally, and a hundred percent worth it despite everything. He rubs soothingly on his back, whispering sincere words as he plays with the boy's hair the way Harry likes it, "Look, even if you record your video right this minute for your role play Thursday, I will still be loving you dearly, understood? Because like--," Louis chokes on his spit as he lets out a humorless laugh, feeling teary himself all the damn sudden, "--I'm like, in hella _deep_ here, you know? Has gone totally bonkers for you. Too fuckin' whipped to leave for something so petty."

Harry shivers wildly against him, sobbing silly now, his green bow tie getting soaked with his fat tears, "I was just-- this is supposed to be _last_ , Lou," he drawls shakily, "--like-- I just wanna do something for those I still owe? Because they-- like, askin'--"

"It's fine, baby, sshh. Like I said, I know everything, so I fully understand. And if you want, I can just wait for you by the couch until you're done here, and then I'll be there for an aftercare, no problem." He cups Harry's face and lets their noses brush just briefly, making Harry swallow a sob. "How's that sound, love? Have you ever had anyone take care of you after going back from subspace?"

Harry blinks at this, has stopped violently crying for now and is just hiccupping. "No..." he murmurs eventually, big glossy eyes staring back at Louis.

Louis wipes at his cheeks, thumbing gently at the tears. Harry is Louis' porcelain china doll, hypothetically. "I'll be right outside to serve as one then. You may carry on with this, yeah? I hold no judgement." Louis makes to move, but Harry makes grabby hands at him and grips his arms quite possessively, nervously even, and stops him.

"You... you'll be there when I'm done, right?" He asks with those big Bambi eyes, biting his lip and then releasing it. "You won't run, right?" And like, thing is, he asked these with so much _hope_ coating his voice, and Louis' heart is just--it gets stuck on his throat. Fuck.

He decides to humor him instead of anything cheesier. "I won't, silly." Then he smiles toothily. "And, Haz?"

"Y-yeah?" Harry breathes, sniffling.

"I love you, remember that. Have fun with Mr. Big Baby, aight?" On that last bit, Louis can't help but add a cheeky wink as he nods toward the cyan colored dildo left lying on the bed, just to earn himself those melodic giggles from his pretty little boyfriend. Which, those are exactly what he got, albeit they sounded an itty bitty watery. Louis will take it.

♡♡♡♡

Why Louis hasn't done it before, the whole confession thing, revealing his secrets to Harry, is pretty much beyond him, but he's happy anyway that that is now out of the way. He's got nothing to worry about no more, except maybe his relationship with Harry that is still very much so law-wise forbidden.

Disregarding that last bit though, Louis has never breathed this properly for a damn long while he's sure, that he has never felt lighter and freed of such evil heavy heart.

He's gone quite giddy and more relaxed than twenty minutes ago, and again, why he hasn't unleashed himself of all the hiding from before is still such a fucking mystery even to himself. Or perhaps he knew that he was being a right coward back then, a selfish bastard, a secretive unreasonable cunt.

But now he's conquered it, and he's so fucking relieved that _Harry_ didn't even slap him for it--for hiding away the truth, for scaring him there for a second. They were both having fears in regards to it, as it turned out, which. _Silly boyfriends._

Louis shakes his head at the thought, grinning to himself like a dork sat alone on Harry's couch by the living area. He's taken off his slippers now and his pea coat stays at the doorstep, his glasses absent from atop his nose. He keeps on running his fingers through his feathery soft hair, mildly irritated by it because it's down if he's honest, as he wills his cock to not get hard, Jesus Christ.

Because the thing is, Louis can _hear_ Harry moaning. He can hear his wails, his whimpers and whines... the words 'Sir' and 'Spank me' and 'I'm such a bad tardy student' leaving the boy's mouth.

And it's right there, right all the way from his bedroom that is shut closed, which means he's moaning rather _loudly_ \--loud enough that the obscene sounds are traveling all the way to the living room area--and Louis, quite embarrassingly so, is twitching involuntarily in his pajama pants, as always.

Truth be told, Louis is itching to see. Or maybe to watch? Wanting to witness how Harry does it with his very own eyes. All this time...Louis is still such a massive fan, despite he's his boyfriend now. _Hey angel ninety fucking eight is all yours now, Louis_ , he reminds himself again.

Shooting up from the couch just as he's heard his boyfriend releasing a string of _ah, uh, uh, ah's_ not too far from where he is now, Louis starts pacing back and forth, quite jittery, biting his nails like he's someone who's becoming a father for the first time and that he's waiting for his partner to deliver their first child from the other room, ridiculously so.

And like, he's so, so curious now, that he's stealing glances over the closed pastel pink door, where he can hear Harry squealing (has he come yet?), and until he's walking towards it losing all control over himself, greedy hand about reaching for the doorknob, but then--

\--but then the door is opening itself and Harry is stepping out of it all the sudden, looking all fucked out of his wits, the makeup on his face from earlier all smudged by sweats. Louis is right beside him in a flash, holding him upright to balance him, since his legs have gone all jelly. Louis looks at Harry and lets sink in his head the fact that Harry's just going down from his high from orgasming, drinking in the look on his face, all flushed and sweaty, and thinks, _shit, how did I become so lucky?_ Harry is a fucking view.

Blinking dazedly, the boy flicks his gaze up and searches Louis' eyes, wordless, and then his lanky arms are suddenly closing around Louis' neck and pulling him down, mouth parting open and his pink tongue sticking out, as he kisses Louis hungrily, messily, like he's craving for it all night. Louis freezes momentarily before he's once and for all kissing back, tasting his sweetness against his tongue, hands coming up to snake around Harry's narrow waists, fingers slipping in his white schoolgirl blouse.

Harry moans softly in his mouth, just when Louis' reached his nipples, his blouse lifted up from the hems by his forearms, practiced fingers closing in on each nipple. They work and twist on them, playing with them so they pucker up, which they do. Louis suckles on Harry's bottom lip as the boy tilts his head a little with the friction, their mouths disconnecting with wet slurping sounds that followed.

Louis knows he's supposed to give Harry aftercare, has promised to be there for him through his getting down from subspace, but all plans get immediately thrown off the window when Harry finally pants out weakly, "Fuck me, Lou. Fuck me, please. I-- I want this virginity card out of the way."

Louis is nodding his head vigorously once more. "Yes," he breathes out, still holding Harry close, fingers squeezing mindlessly on his nipples, "yes, fuck. Harry, I will. I'll make love to you this instant."

Biting his lip, Harry looks at him with stars in his eyes, nodding too. And then they're tongue fucking each other's mouths again after that as they stumble back in Harry's room, attacking one another with genuine earnestness, greedy hands couldn't be kept to themselves, both of them tugging on Louis' top and pulling it over his head, Harry ending up chucking it on the floor. His hands come up to trail over Louis' chest in a blink, and then he's murmuring in awe, "So in love with your tattoos, Lou... 'look so hot with them..."

"Yeah?" Louis breathes out, heaving with his cheeks hot. Harry nods, and then he's back on keening, grinding eagerly against Louis' crotch.

Louis ducks lower, and he holds Harry's hips as he groans, carrying the boy's weight and throwing him on the bed as they get near it. Harry gasps at that, wild eyes blown dilated as he fixes Louis' bulging crotch a look, his skirt bunched up revealing his leaking cock. Louis jumps him, and the bed bounces along with Harry, making them both laugh. But only for a short lived minute though, because Louis' taken Harry's cock in his grasp.

The boy shudders at the contact, and as Louis starts pumping on it, making the foreskin close in on the head at each thrust, Harry throws his head back, hitting a pillow as he does just that.

"Been waiting for this moment, baby girl," Louis murmurs, enticed at the state they're in, Harry's milky thighs spread open for his hips to settle in between them, and him hovering over his nice little body. It's so amazing how Harry's yet to develop some abs or firm muscles despite his impressive height for such an age, and Louis will never get over the soft contours and curves and edges of his torso down to his waists and pert, pale bum. He's so pretty and small and slim. Louis' so lucky to have a boyfriend with such an amazing body structure.

Moments to his spacing, Louis suddenly feels Harry shift from beneath him, bucking his hips up like he can't wait no longer, and Louis has to hiss quietly just to maybe reassure Harry he'll eventually stop teasing. Harry won't budge, reaching out on him like a peculiar child, his socked feet brushing against Louis' arms. Louis can't help scoff, albeit playfully. Harry bites on his lip as he looks down at Louis in between his thighs. "Please...do something?"

"Patience, love," Louis mutters. Harry pouts. Louis breaks into a fond grin.

And that's when he caves in, leaning down and licking at the slit of Harry's pink headed cock as he pushes his skirt some more upwards, before parting his lips wide and swallowing him whole down. Harry whimpers at his tongue's contact with his cock--that quickly, considering they just literally began. Although Louis supposes _he_ himself just started, but Harry's already come earlier in his video recording, thus he's so responsive like this. And Louis sympathizes a bit, knowing his dick must've come untouched once again, like it always did with his old videos of fucking himself with various sex toys. It must be super sensitive now at this point.

Well, it's actually heavy in Louis' mouth, his tongue lapping at the base greedily, and Louis' mind goes back to that time when he watched Harry's role play video when he was a ballerina, and he'd salivated over it--dreaming about having a taste of the twink's cock. Then now he's here, doing just that. He wants to smile at the thought, but he's afraid he's still got something else in hand, so he won't. Instead he works on Harry's cock and starts bobbing his head up and down on it, earnest and hungry for it, pulling off just so he could suckle at Harry's balls, and then wrapping his mouth around his hard length once again.

The boy starts writhing over the bed, moaning non-stop and panting out Louis' name sweetly, making fireworks explode in Louis' stomach at the sounds of them. He's always had a thing for it. And so it only motives Louis to do better--to satisfy Harry all the more. "Nghh... Lou... _oh my god_ , I think I'm--"

Louis pulls off again, this time with a loud pop. He looks at Harry underneath him and their gazes meet for a moment. It's as if they're speaking through their eye-contact that Louis instantly gets it--Harry doesn't want to come yet, not like this. So, "Condom and lube, babe?" Louis asks, and wow, his voice sounded hoarse, which is just fucking amazing. Harry really is quite big.

Nodding eagerly, Harry points at the drawers behind Louis and says (or rather blabbers), "Condoms in the second level, Lou. Just... look somewhere there. I haven't really had sex with anyone, only you, so I forget where I--"

"Oh," Louis exhales, feeling flattered despite himself. "Of course, baby girl." At the nickname used for the third time (or fourth) on him, Harry preens and his dimples pop out. Louis leans down quickly to drop a kiss on his forehead, so fucking smitten, and Harry sighs happily as result. Louis scrambles up to his feet and rushes to grab a condom and another bottle of lube on mentioned drawers.

Before he comes back, Louis strips off his pajama pants first and kicks it off his ankle, together with his black briefs, tearing the packet of condom using his teeth. He climbs back on the bed and grabs on Harry's thighs, pulling him to the side so they can position better, grunting jokingly at the boy's weight. Harry giggles at his blatant eagerness, his cheeks flushing pink, and he once again spreads open his legs, making way for Louis. Louis grins at the gesture as he starts to roll the red strawberry flavored condom down on his hard curved cock, coating his shaft with lube right after.

He sees at his peripherals the way that Harry is watching him slick up his own cock intensely, his tongue peeking out and licking at his lower lip while he waits, and Louis just has this out of the whim urge to admit to him as he thumbs at Harry's hole that is already stretched from earlier, with his voice dangerously calm even in his own ears, "Many others may have seen you fuck yourself with plush dick toys already, but at the end of the day..." Louis looks up to see Harry's facial expression through his lashes, "...you're all mine."

He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing along his throat, and Louis just drops every little ounce of self-restraint as he lines up his cock across Harry's pink puckered rim, not needing some prepping up anymore. He pushes in, swiftly and smoothly without much of a fuss, and Harry screams through it, a strangled, " _I'm all yours!_ " escaping from his lips.

Louis barricades the boy with his hands on either side of his head, Harry's legs propped up on each his shoulders, his hole warm and clenching around Louis' cock, stretching open just to tighten back again, making Louis groan in full pleasure and pressure at the same time. "So fucking tight, baby girl. _Fuck_ ," he grunts through gritted teeth, pushing in further into Harry.

Harry clings tightly on his biceps, fingers digging on his skin, and his mouth is agape just as Louis' finally, finally bottomed out. "Shit," Harry bites, weakly, brokenly. Louis slides back out until he can see the tip of his cock slipping out of Harry's rims, only to pound back in, hard enough to hear some skin to skin slapping.

He searches for an angle after a while, never stopping his powerful thrusts with a quick and smooth rhythm accommodating that; he's been looking for Harry's sweet spot, sweats gathering on his forehead just beneath his down fringe.

Harry squirms after he's sidled quite a bit, Harry's one hand falling on the sheets beside him, his fingers gripping on them. "Yes, _yes_ , right there!" He suddenly begins chanting, screaming at the top of his lungs, and Louis sighs inaudibly, happy with finally having jabbed repeatedly on Harry's prostate.

His schoolgirl costume begins bunching up at every push Louis gives him, and with his eyebrows slowly furrowing at that, Louis reaches over to unbutton the rest of the buttons of his blouse, tugging them on either side to reveal his entire torso. Harry's nipples are puckered up, so pink and looking so sensitive, and Louis has to nibble on one of them, teeth grazing the darker skins. Harry arches his back with a loud gasp, his hands coming up and clumsily pushing at the back of Louis' head, pressing him against his chest much further.

He doesn't stop fucking Harry, loving the surging feeling of his building orgasm, while he licks and nips on Harry's abused nipples. The boy shudders underneath him, begins babbling incoherently, though Louis still heard the word 'Sir'.

"Did you think about me while you fucked yourself with Mr. Chubby?" He asks, redeeming his head from Harry's blooming flushed chest.

Harry nods vigorously, legs all pliant and jelly again on Louis' shoulders. "Yes, yes I did," he answers breathlessly, mouth slacked and eyes wild, staring back at Louis, "always did, I-- _nghh_ ," he hisses just as Louis' once again jabbed harshly on his G spot. His cheeks color a bright magenta, and Louis has no choice but to capture his lips and kiss him open-mouthed, licking a stripe across his tongue. When they pull away, Harry looks at him with a bit of saliva dribbling down his chin. "Ever since-- ever since you came into my life, Mr. Tomlinson," he says in between heavy pants, "you've starred all my-- fantasies and wanking sessions."

Louis' eyes widen, and, fuck-- _fuck_. Louis is so close just by knowing that. He squeezes his eyes shut as he quickens his pace, fucking Harry harder, pushing at Harry's face and pressing his cheek against the bouncing mattress, grasp closing around his jaw. Harry whimpers about while Louis continues to wreck him relentlessly, his balls hitting Harry's bum cheeks as he pushes in fully deep, Harry's neglected cock in between them leaking so much white beads and dropping over his belly.

His index finger traces down Harry's neck, hand stopping just above his chest, and Harry's once again looking up at him, face contorted into one of those feeling their orgasm reaching its peek, and just as he's right with his assumption, Harry frowns up at him, "Coming, Louis-- I'm gonna--"

He shoots his load and his come paints a long and thick, white streak across his own belly, eliciting a surprised laugh out of Louis. " _Dang it_ , baby girl," he rasps out loudly, torn between laughing hysterically and awarding Harry some spanking.

Harry only whimpers in response though, and Louis is still thrusting against him too, hands clutching on Harry's hips to keep him from reaching upwards and hitting the headboard.

Jerking a little as he swaps angles yet again, Louis comes eventually as well, following Harry a couple seconds late, and he feels his orgasm squirting in short and long spurts inside of Harry, pooling at the tip of the condom worn on him. "Ooh, bollocking _sshh_ ," he swears for the umpteenth time tonight, voice an octave lower, to which has Harry busting out in a fit of obnoxiously loud giggles.

Louis, despite he's gone purely exhausted, still manages to grin cheekily down at the boy, pinching his cheek in the process as he releases his cock out of him.

Harry retrieves his own legs off of Louis' shoulders with a big smile on his face, muttering things such as "best first time with the real thing" and "best cock ever" and "best adult boyfriend", as he rolls to his side, while Louis gets up to pad towards the loo, his cheeks hot.

He grabs on a washcloth by the sink while he's sliding the condom off his cock and chucking it on the bin, and then he's coming back in bed again, where Harry's finally stripped naked all over, from head to toe, schoolgirl costume in a messy pile on the carpeted floor.

"Look at you," Louis exhales as he stops and stares, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. "I'm sorry, but. You're so gorgeous, Haz."

He's always amazed at the perfection that is his boyfriend, Louis, something he thinks will never change, that he can't help but check him out shamelessly, despite they literally just finished having sex, for the first time even, mind. And Harry blushes under his gaze as result to that, and truthfully, Louis still doesn't get how he's doing that--the fact that he can reduce Harry into _that_ fumbling mess, but he secretly loves and takes pride in the feeling anyway, flattered that someone who's as beautiful and sexy as Harry would bite his lip at his honest compliments.

"You're not too bad yourself, Mr. Tommo," Harry mumbles teasingly, breaking into a wide grin, dimples popping.

Grinning himself, Louis finally gets to where Harry is sat mermaid style and he starts cleaning them both up, wiping at the come stains all over them. His dick has gone limp now, even Harry's he can see, but Louis thinks if he continued to touch Harry like this, it wouldn't be impossible for them to get hard again in no time. Although admittedly he wouldn't have anything against that.

"So, uhm," Harry says after a while, after everything's gone quieter around them, the two of them lying naked on Harry's bed, Louis settled above the pillows, and Harry with his back propped up against his chest. Their legs align before them, Harry's cock flushed in between his thighs, Louis' own pressed against Harry's bum crack. No one speaks about it.

Instead, they're doing small talk. "So...?" Louis prompts, playing with Harry's pigtails.

Harry sighs. "You knew all along then," he mumbles shyly.

Knows what exactly Harry is on about, Louis gulps his subtlest, as he sheepishly lets out, "Whoops."

Whining slyly, Harry slaps Louis' right thigh and Louis can't help chuckle. "This is serious, Lewis. I demand to know how you found out. Was it one of the boys at school? Or-- or did any of my friends tell you? I swear to _God_ , if they--"

"Been one of your subs for ten months, Harry," Louis cuts through, clearing his throat just to mask his guilt, making Harry snap his mouth close.

But then, Harry rolls quickly on his front and he looks at Louis with wide, wide eyes. "Ten months," he exhales, almost sounding in awe.

Louis nods at him, just to confirm it, and then he waits for Harry to say more, but Harry didn't talk. Louis just decides to tack on, finally willing and ready to come squeaky clean to him after all the hiding. "See, it was back in my lonely days, Haz... Back when I was depressed, because I was single and, obviously, _old_. I have friends, sure, but half of them are married, and considering the fact that I'm older than them, I thought I seemed so pathetic that they were just passing ahead of me without much effort, with careers stabled and families to build. And I thought, I-- that I was just-- I was just someone who was alone in life with only two pet cats to take care of and live with, you know?"

"Lou..." Harry says softly, hands coming up on Louis' chest. Louis ducks down and Harry gets the message, leaning up and meeting Louis' lips halfway.

They pull away and Louis proceeds telling, "One night, my mates and I went bar hopping around Manchester, and we got smashed for the better part of the night, and when we stumbled back home, this other mate of mine named Luke, introduced me to pay per come dot com." He chuckles, and Harry smiles a little at him, encouragingly so. "At first I thought it was ridiculous, because I didn't think watching porn would solve my life problems, right, but then three days in, I stumbled upon your account."

Harry's lips form an _O_ , and Louis wiggles his eyebrows at him in return.

"There I saw, for the very first time, this super fucking hot, and _young_ \--," Harry pouts, "--and pretty twink under the username of hey angel ninety eight, and I swear to you my jaw dropped. I was pulled at first sight, baby girl." He leans in again and brushes his nose against Harry's, pinching his chin and dropping his hand over his chest. Harry's face is rosy pink again, dimple on his left cheek showing. "Ever since I discovered your account, I started to invest my time and..." He clears his throat.

Harry smiles fondly at him. "It's fine, Lou."

Louis nods. "As I was saying, I got instantly attached to you, no matter if it was virtually and you didn't know me. I spent so much money on you, and time. I even reserved my special me-times just to see you. My part time incomes were all burned for watching your daily videos. And... obviously, I wanked on them every time."

"Oh," Harry breathily says, eyes wide and blinking. He's never stopped blushing as Louis continues, and Louis' pretty positive he's just as worst.

"Yeah. A-anyway... I was six months in when this friend of mine called and said I was called for hiring position for an English teacher in SBA, and there was where I met you. I was--"

"Lou, can I be honest with you?" Harry rushes out to say, interrupting Louis. Louis nods at at him and puts a hand on his back, smoothing his palm over Harry's soft flesh. "I thought you looked so handsome when you first walked in through the gates of Saint Bridget, and when you went out later in the day, I had to convince the girls to stalk you back to the coffee shop, and that was how you first saw me."

"Wait. So you mean to say, that you were the reason we first met in English Caffeine instead of in class?" Louis is blown by this information. _Harry saw him first, before he saw him. And Harry even stalked him._

Smiling sheepishly, Harry shrugs and says, "Pretty much, yeah..."

"You cheeky devil," Louis guffaws, poking at Harry's sides and making the boy squirm and giggle. Louis laughs along, feeling his jaws hurt from so much smiling. "And I thought I was the creep! It was you who was the stalker!"

"I was, I was-- _aahh!_ " Harry shrieks, cackling loudly now as Louis' tickling fingers on him become wilder and tactful. "Lou! S-stop!" Harry squeals, head thrown back and limbs flapping around weakly, trying but failing to get away. Louis laughs even louder at the silly mess that they are.

They're making the bed rock as they proceed with wrestling each other--this time with Harry straddling his hips, and Louis' arm slung around his neck, pulling him flushed against him. And just like any easily distracted couples, their little confessions type of conversation completely ends from that point on, because the next thing that Harry does is rub his arse cheeks against Louis' quickly forming semi, and just like that they're back on kissing and getting dead serious, Louis' heart beating erratically in his chest.

He fucking loves Harry Edward Styles with his everything, and he'll never ever let go of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to thank one of my readers under the user larryjustfooked, for pointing out all my honest mistakes, bc then i get to fix some chapters :) (thank u a bunch, dear :*) i didn't really know 'bipolar' can't be used as an adjective even though it just slipped from you amidst your hysterics. altho in my defense, here in my country we're used to saying it without taking full offense, bc ppl here think it was a normal thing. sigh. guess society is v much a lot fucked up, huh.
> 
> anyway. my tumblr is harriepatootie, if u want to chat. i also have a kik that is the same with my pseudo on here, so. hmu anytime xx
> 
> this fic isn't over yet btw! there is still a lot to happen!! so stay tunedddd.
> 
> one more thing: if u loved this fic, kindly share it to your pals? spread it, do whatever you want :) im a bit sad i don't have that many readers, and i don't rlly know how to promote stuff, so... yeah. thank you <333


	11. gotta show the world that something good can work ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh-oh! sorry for the late update. yikes.
> 
> anyway~
> 
> sick louis. holidays. spring.  
> harry gets reunited with his girl buddies.  
> louis isn't the guy he used to be anymore, regarding on how he treats harry in public places, esp at school.  
> harry and the girl gang got invited at a pool get-together.  
> harry meets a lot of new ppl.
> 
> and for the most requested: louis bonds with the girl gang.
> 
> (also: cheerleader harry. hehe)
> 
> BTW BTW BTW GUYS. MY AWESOME FRIEND //MARINA// MADE A TRAILER FOR ROSY CHEEKS! YAYAYAY!
> 
> WATCH IT FOR FEELS. HEHEHE. SHE'S SO BRILLIANT AND I LOVE HER VERY MUCH A LOT<3

Harry felt really bad when after they've had sex for the first time, Louis got sick from it.

He'd passed the flu over to his boyfriend, and as much as that served as some type of token that just made everything somewhat official for the both of them, since that actually was a bittersweet tragedy made out of them going all the way for the very first time, Harry knew it was still that--a tragedy.

So then it'd been his turn to take care of Louis, the two of them leaving their classes unattended, and just stayed back at Harry's flat for another three days. Louis couldn't talk properly for the better part of those days, coughing nonstop and rubbing at his nose, sneezing beneath Harry's extra blankets.

Cara and Kendall tried to crash the guest room during those sick days, but of course Harry had told them off, said he couldn't have visitors for a while. And while Kendall gave him this knowing look, Cara on the other hand like the naturally nosy girl she is, slipped past Harry to see what was the hype about, and as expected, she walked in on Louis napping on the couch with his head lolling to the side, soft short snores coming through his flaring nose.

Cara backed out with her cheeks all red, patting Harry on the top of his head as she stood at his door, and said rather fondly, "Okay, nurse Harry Styles, we'll leave you to it then," and that had been that. Harry couldn't grin wider as he waved them goodbye.

On the last day of their stay in, Louis told Harry that he needn't do that again, the scrubbing of an entire building just because he thought it was unfair that he camboyed for money. "How did you know?" Harry asked, quite fidgety.

"Eleanor told me. But that doesn't matter now, H, she's just as worried as I am. I just want you to take care of yourself, yeah? You can continue camboying if that's the best choice--"

"No," Harry cut in immediately, shaking his head. "I don't... I never liked the idea of random blokes jacking off to me. Especially not if I have you now." He bit his lip, and then looked up to cast Louis a determined look. "I'll be fine with other jobs, I promise."

Louis hummed, Harry being lucky enough he isn't that hard to coax for how matured and ahead he thinks; he only asked, "Do you have a plan B?"

And, that was easy enough to answer, really, "Yes, actually. I'll work on a bakery. Or like, maybe serve at a diner or in a pub. Just anything."

Louis nodded, agreed, and they were good.

Harry did take the free exam Louis prepared for him when they got back to school on Monday, and on another weekend that came, they both went over to the bakery nearby his flat and applied him up for the cashier position. They both know it won't be covering half of what Harry used to get out of PPC, but they're willing to take new risks--like heck, even their entire relationship circles around taking risks, so. They're used to this, they can do this.

So they are.

Anyway, Louis had prompted that one of them should probably pack their belongings then and move in with the other, be a proper live-in couple. Quite frankly, Harry had been thinking about it recently before Louis even mentioned it, feeling all sorts of tingly and giddy about the idea of seeing Louis walk out of the shower all fresh and naked, hair damped and torso dripping wet... and he also had been contemplating. Because the thing is, he doesn't know if he's ready to leave his place yet, or if he even wants to...

Well, it's not that he doesn't want to live in the same place as Louis, because fuck, if anything Harry would _love_ to wake up next to him every day, see his sleep-rumpled self, soft morning aura and all that amazingly wonderful jazz, but.

Only if things were a little different though...

Only if Harry doesn't love his flat too much, or that he hasn't been fonding over it for quite a long time now.

Harry doesn't want to leave, he loves it here.

And the other issue is that he doesn't want Louis to have the need to leave his own flat either--just for his sake. Harry doesn't think he could ever ask that of Louis, otherwise he'd feel really bad, because that would just be Harry being selfish, so... He tends to leave the matter aside.

For now.

They celebrated Christmas and New Years Eve apart, since Louis went home to his mum and siblings in Doncaster and Harry met up with Gemma in London to lead him back home to their Nan, who had prepared so much food for them to feast with.

It was a two weeks time apart, and Harry might have been a bit queasy, sure, but it had turned out well in the end. Gemma knew about Louis, so they got to gossip about him a lot during the Holidays break, and because of that, he didn't miss Louis all too much--too much to the point of running back home and taking the first train to Doncaster, that is. Don't think that Harry doesn't know his way around England, despite of his young age.

Plus, they Skyped a lot; Harry greeted Louis Happy Birthday on the 24th, got himself off on cam for Louis while sat on his bedroom in his Nan's house, coming too quickly on Gemma's laptop screen (oops), and then they wished each other Merry Christmas on the 25th, and Happy New Years on the 1st around 12 midnight, so there's that.

When they got reunited again on the twelfth, they exchanged gifts Harry never thought would even occur--but he sure did shop with Gemma before he left for Winchester, though, had set his mind on giving his boyfriend and girl friends some stuff.

While Louis gave him two new sweaters, one cream-colored knitted one and the other being a pale pink with a strawberry embroidered at the front, and then a pair of white bunny slippers, Harry on the other hand gave Louis a bunch of tank tops with gapey holes for his arms--blacks and whites. He's been wanting to see him in those for quite a while now, want his inked biceps in display for him, making him look like a proper punk, matched with his tight black skinnies that made his round bum a hundred times phenomenal.

But Harry wouldn't admit that though, would just enjoy the view every time he'd dress up that way, partnered with his quirky dark-colored Vans.

On a whole different context, after their first sex, the thing with them is they never kept their hands to themselves again. _Psh_. Harry doesn't think he actually can even if it's a life or death situation...

Harry enjoys the sex with Louis so fucking much it's uncanny--especially when he's feeling rather kinky.

He'd worn his costumes when they hung around his place the weeks they were still on break, just to use it to his advantage. Louis admitted to him once that his Thursdays were his favourite when he used to tune in to his camboy videos (which of course had had Harry blushing like crazy for only forever), so Harry has made it a habit to seduce Louis wearing his role play costumes, that mostly he pulls when Louis' working and looking like he doesn't want to be disturbed. Well, there's only a lot one can do in order to fight boredom, right?

And besides, Harry has like, _a lot_ of them costumes in his closet. Like, tons of them, and he thinks it'll be a right shame if he won't be able to use them anymore just because he quit camboying. So he thought, in exchange to brandishing it all across the internet for various men or boys to salivate over, Harry has decided it'll all be just for his Louis and Louis alone.

He's got this ridiculous Policewoman costume, with the whole navy blue matching uniforms, pencil skirt hugging his waists down to his upper thighs, a blouse that shows his soft curves, his chest and nipples, and a police hat to tamp down his long curls. And then there's this plastic toy 45 Caliber pistol that he could use as a prop. It'll be so much fun to handcuff Louis, he bets. _Hehe._

He also has the Stripper type one; just some black and white lace lingerie, with some white stockings and high heels, where he can have his curls down, match it with his matt red lipstick, black thick mascara to coat his eyelashes, and then let Cara do his eyebrows, so it would be "on fleek," she once said.

Harry can always be a Nurse as well--he's done it before on one of his videos--in his pastel pink matching uniform, pencil skirt that hugs his waists down to his "meaty" thighs, top scrubs accentuated with pale white buttons, a pink nurse hat that he'd clip to his hair that's tied up in a bun. He could wear his pair of immaculate white flats to complete this attire. And maybe he should've worn it during the time he took care of Louis during his sick days, although he doubts that'll make Louis recover any faster...

Harry can also be a boxer. In nothing but some white sports bra and blue mini jersey shorts, rubber shoes for his feet, some blue boxing gloves for his fists--yes, he got this from Toys R Us for this kind of activity, don't judge him--and then his curls will be tied up in a loose ponytail, just because.

Now Harry has tried the Schoolgirl one, where he's been in some Japanese styled uniform, some white blouse for his top, a navy blue blazer to go with that, and then some plaid skirt, black high socks for his legs, brown leather shoes, and then a green silk ribbon wrapped around his collar. Louis fucked him for the very first time in that, so Harry thought it'd worked. Maybe he should do it again... but for some other time.

For Harry's personal favourite, he can be a kitten. Like a literal one. He's bought this... pastel pink collar without a leash from way back, see, and then some panties to cover his junk, with a hole from behind it in order for his beige "furry cat tail" to have its breather. He's also got some beige headband with tongue-pink cat ears that will peek through his mop of curls, and then he'd complete the act by loving licking the backs of his "paws" and pur once his owner Louis feeds him raw fish. Ha. As if Louis would role play with him.

But what if he unleashes his Dominatrix Harry side though, be in some black silk leather corsets, crotchless panties, and thigh-high fetsh boots, clutch on a black Cat Woman whip, some handcuffs, crops and paddles. And then dom Louis. Harry can't help giggle at the image of that.

But anyway, since Harry's too kind to Louis, didn't want him to combust (Harry's pretty smug about this, alright), what he picked he'd be in the end that one night Louis was busy with something while he was getting bored by the second, was his Cheerleader costume. Yep.

Harry in some matching pastel yellow crop top and pleated mini skirt cheering uniform, with the word "Daddy" in front of his top, hot pink Barbie fonts in bold letters, had clutched on his two pink pom-poms to complete the style, walking out of his bedroom and stopping to stand at the hallway where he could see Louis reading a textbook.

It took probably about eight to nine excruciatingly long seconds before Louis finally noticed his lingering heated aura by the entryway, had looked up from what he was reading, and-- _boy_ , did the look on Louis' face has been the best Harry had ever received from anyone his entire kink-filled life. Eyes bulged out and wide, cheeks so red Harry was afraid his boyfriend would turn into a tomato, and jaw dropping down to the floor; utterly priceless.

"Ha-Harry?" Louis squeaked out, his eyeglasses slipping down his nose by a centimeter.

"'M bored, Lou. Think you're up for some... role play?" Harry asked, bordering dangerously on blatant innocent.

"Role play?" Louis proceeded being aghast.

"Yeah," Harry exhaled, feigning devastation, "I'm so bored, you see. Been tryin' to entertain myself by fingering back in my bedroom, but I can't seem to accomplish anything." He sighed exaggeratedly, walking languidly toward Louis. "Can you be like, my..." He pretended to think, loving the affect he had on Louis that very minute, enjoying the way the older man was dropping his textbook on his side and lifting up an arm to reach out on Harry. "Be my varsity footballer tonight?"

He winked. And then that had been the last straw for Louis.

He growled, like, practically _growled_ , and he grabbed on Harry's waists and pulled him to have him sat on his lap. Louis was quick to throw his glasses aside and strip naked from top to bottom, Harry giggling madly in the background.

When Louis was entirely naked, Harry had made sure to chuck his lilac panties away too, and then Louis was whispering darkly in his ear, "You said you fingered yourself back there?" Harry nodded, still role playing and acting like an innocent cheerleader, "Bad girl, aren't you? Didn't wait for Mr. Tommo..." Harry's breath hitched, and he couldn't help but cling onto Louis' hard biceps, "Looks like I have to punish you now, eh, princess?"

"Yes, fuck. Please, punish me with your dick, Mr. Tommo," Harry whimpered out, already rutting against Louis, their bare cocks grinding against each other. "Penetrate my prostate."

Louis held him still. "Tsk. _Wrong_ , baby," he muttered lowly, evenly, "I'm your varsity footballer you've been cheering on from the sidelines throughout the game, remember?"

"I-- y-yeah," Harry panted, forehead planted over Louis' shoulder, at that point already desperate for any type of friction on his dick. "Please my handsome and rugged footie legend... want your... want your skillful tongue inside me."

_A huff_. "Thought you'd never ask," Louis breathed out, with his hands gripping tightly on each of Harry's arse cheeks and kneading; the next thing that followed was of Harry with his pleated skirt gathered by his arm, the other one clung on the armrest of the couch where they were, and his spread out cheeks sat firmly on Louis' face.

He rode Louis' face that night with his pink pom poms lying across the carpeted floor somewhere, his wailing and whimpering being the only ever noises that was filling the living area as a whole, as the brand new experience lasted, Louis' slurping tongue pointing hard to get in and around his walls, working its magic and muscles fucking into him until he came.

It'd been one of the best sex Harry's ever shared with Louis.

...Or maybe not. Because came Harry's birthday on the 1st of February, he had once again declared Louis as _the best fucking boyfriend in the whole world!_

When Louis got him two pairs of lingerie with fishnet stockings and lace panties (that he wears now in occasion or when they're in the mood), they'd had another role play before sex. Harry was Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman while Louis was Richard Gere but the kinky versions, and Louis had fucked him in standing position against the wall of Louis' kitchen after they ate cupcakes Harry baked himself, with of course Saturn and Lee as their oblivious audiences. He had the back of his thighs carried by Louis, while Louis was balls deep inside of him.

So like...yeah. Sex with Louis is just--it's so fucking good. Like visiting heaven for hours and then coming down from it later on.

♡♡♡♡

When Spring finally rolls around and has officially started kicking in, it's back to school again. Harry meets up with his girl friends "looking fucked"--Cara's own words as she accepts her late Christmas gift from Harry--and everything has never gone back to how it used to be, ever again. Not even the slightest bit, because Louis is smiling at him as we speak, as Harry huddles in a circle with Kendall, Eleanor, Cara and Melissa, winking at him subtly and even nodding at the girls, before retreating back to the staircase.

Before they parted ways this morning, he and Louis, Louis has instructed that Harry invites his friends along to this little gathering by the pool in his friends' house, that will be held next week, and so Harry is. He definitely _is_ , most especially that now it's Louis himself who's initiating things in his own accord unlike before when Harry had to do all the first moves, and also _now_ that he even wants to involve Harry's friends. _So_. Harry is so giddy about this, alright, just like he's so ready to make things solider with Louis, and even happier that he'll finally meet some of Louis' closest friends.

He's in the classroom at the moment with Mrs. Walters teaching them about C++ Programming, and break time is almost approaching. Harry glances at Melly ten minutes later and mouths, _got something to tell you._ She mouths back, _later_ , and Harry nods.

At the hallways during break time, it's Kendall who slings an arm around Harry, making him tumble forward a bit, and Cara who presses a loud smack on his cheek. "We missed you, baby H! And _again_ , you look--"

"--absolutely fucked!" Kendall chirps in sync with her girlfriend. They burst in loud giggles after that, whereas Harry's beet red in the cheeks.

"Shut up, tossers," he murmurs then, can't help grinning. They're on their way to the doors of the cafeteria when Harry eventually breaks it. "You guys wanna come with?"

"Where?" Kendall asks, going towards the trays to get herself and Cara some. Melissa and Eleanor follow suit, and then Harry last.

"Some sort of pool party at some friends' house," Harry says, feeling his face heating up, because he knows they will ask whose house next, and then Harry will be informing them Louis', and then they'll probably tease him about it.

Okay, here goes. "Whose house?" Melly asks, looking at him with unsuspecting eyes. "Is this what you're gonna talk to me about?"

Harry nods. "Yeah, uhm." He fiddles with the apple he took from the basket on the counter, and then he places his tray over the ladies in charge to have it filled with goods. "It's... Louis' friends' house, actually," he finally tells.

And now he waits, eying his friends who're wearing the same knowing looks across their pretty faces. It's not until they reach their usual spot under the tree outside that Cara finally, finally explodes and squeals. "Oh my God! You know what this means, Haz?" She gushes, directing her gaze to Harry while she grips on each his arms.

"What?" Harry mumbles, avoiding Cara's loaded gaze.

"Harry. You're being introduced to our professor's best mates! And you said those mates are a married couple?" Cara rambles, loud and excited. Harry can only nod, tongue tied and heart pounding madly in his chest. "Your relationship with him will fucking climb up ten steps, baby! He's taking this to the next level, have you realized yet?"

Harry blinks at her, can feel his blood reaching the tip of his head and leaving his fingers cold. "Of course, I did... I..."

"Oh yes, Cara's right! I'm so happy for you, Harru!" Kendall cheers, lunging on Harry and hugging him. "A _married_ couple, can you believe? That's like, two adults, Haz. Two committed adults who own a fucking pool inside their house."

"Oh, fuck, yes, I totally forgot about that," Cara gasps, eyes wide as she continues to gush with Kendall. Harry just listens to his friends go totally ballistic about this, though even he himself is feeling some type of way as they gossip about Louis' married friends who are, to this day, still a bunch of mysteries to Harry. "I wonder if they also own a Jacuzzi? Or maybe a hot spring? Ooh, I'm so excited for this..." She snickers ridiculously, covering her mouth.

"Okay, okay, guys, I get it. This is all great," Melissa says, chuckling at Kendall and Cara's antics, and then she side eyes Harry to address him, "But I think we still haven't answered Harry's invitation though." At this, she starts to beam, grinning big and almost mockingly, looking at them and stopping pointedly at Eleanor. "So--we're _all_ going then, aren't we?"

"Hell yes, we're going!" Cara exclaims, too quickly before anyone (Eleanor) can even protest, fist-pumping the air and almost spilling her box of milk. Kendall pulls her up to her feet and they start dancing around in circles, plaid pleated skirts bouncing along with them.

"We are, we are!" Kendall chants, laughing with her girlfriend. "I'm gonna wear my new bikini!"

" _Yay, babe_ ," Cara cheers around a coo, snaking her arms around Kendall's neck and pulling her down, crashing their lips together. Kendall giggles against their mouths, and Cara pulls away to press their foreheads together. Harry cracks a smile then, and he can see that Eleanor is smirking as well.

"Hey, me too!" Melissa suddenly pipes up, throwing a piece of biscuit at the two, grinning cheekily. Harry watches on as Kendall nods enthusiastically at her, with Cara flopping down next to her and letting their knees bump, the rest of their break time carrying on like this--being excited about the pool get-together, anticipating with hanging out with their teacher Louis Tomlinson for the very first time, and meeting a married homosexual couple whom Harry also told them are actually exceptionally wealthy. Harry doesn't know how wealthy exactly, but Louis definitely slipped that one time he told Harry the story about him and Niall golfing around with some bodyguards, while drinking expensive champagne, so.

As the school ends later, Harry says his goodbye to his friends and meets up with Louis at their usual place nearby the subway underground. Harry kisses him on the cheek, Louis holds him by the small of his back, and then he lets him guide him to ride the tube together. They've got some errands to run tomorrow.

♡♡♡♡

Harry's made sure he wakes up before Louis.

He's slept here last night, when he was only supposed to drop Harry off and then go back to his own flat. Harry did reason that he still needed to feed his cats, but Louis insisted they've got themselves just fine, smart cats and all that.

Anyway, Harry's made sure he wakes up before Louis. And so he has, and he is, like, giving the older man a morning blow job, because why not? They say sex in the morning is always the fucking best, and so Harry is willing to test just how true that theory is.

Lying pliant and relaxed, absolutely dead to the world (or so at least Harry hopes), Harry swallows Louis down, his hardened shaft (Harry wonders what he's wet dreaming about), as he clutches onto the base, pumping while he bobs his head up and down on it. He slicks him up with his spit, working on his head's rhythm, quickening his pace and rendering a shuddering breath out of a sleeping Louis before him.

He continues with that, massaging the balls and kneading at them, his chin brushing against the pulled waistband of Louis' Calvin Klein boxer shorts. Harry pulls off with a pop, lowering his head a bit, web of saliva connecting to his lower lip. He looks up to see through his eyelashes, sees the way Louis' eyebrows are knotting, hands moving but soon dropping to either side of him. Harry takes him in his mouth again, hollowing his cheeks as he slinks down further and deeper, letting the tip of Louis' cock nudge the back of his throat. That's one of Harry's favourite things about sucking his boyfriend off--the part where he gets his throat jabbed for how thick and big Louis is, for how lovely his penis is.

_Harry's got a boyfriend with a big dick._ And, isn't that just a beautiful thing? Such a blessing, that.

As Harry pumps faster on his length, licking at the slit that's already dribbling with pre-come, Harry braces himself for when Louis finally pries an eyelid. And then, "Hazza?" Louis rasps out, eyes squinting through the morning brightness, despite the curtains are drawn inside Harry's bedroom and not that much sunbeams are peeking in.

"Hi," Harry replies, voice groggy from deepthroating his love. "Good morning."

Louis levers himself up with his elbows, looking down in between his spread out thighs. Harry can see his cheeks turning a bright magenta color, probably after realizing what's going on. "Good... good morning, baby, hey. Wow, I see you're-- you're having breakfast already without me."

Harry can't help suppress giggles, still stroking Louis' cock lazily. He leans in, giving kitten licks across Louis' slit, making Louis catch his breath. "Gonna come yet, sir?"

Louis lies his head back down on the pillow, humming, "Yeah, actually. Sorry... don't think I can ever last too long when I just saw how gorgeous you are licking my cock like a fucking popsicle."

"That's fine," Harry says softly, fondly, feeling smug about it. After a few more tugs, true to his words, Louis does come and shoots hot spurts across his tummy, almost reaching his _It Is What It Is_ tattoo (Harry's favorite tattoo of him) painting himself white streaks. Harry smiles in contentment, letting go of Louis' cock and crawling up above Louis' body, but careful not to touch the sticky semen. Louis cranes his neck a bit upwards as he reaches, and they press their lips together for a long morning kiss.

"We have to get up. Class starting soon," Louis says after a beat. Harry nods his agreement.

♡♡♡♡

When they get to their stop later, Louis having worn his left clothes from Harry's that Harry has already taken cared of washing, they separate ways to go to school, but only if for a while.

Harry can still see Louis lingering in the area even after he's met with Melly, Kendall and Cara by the corridors to go to their respective homeroom, has kissed their cheeks one by one, and even then when boys have strolled past them, giving his and Kendall's asses each a loud smack.

They are Aaron and Francis and they are laughing out loud as they go, whereas Cara is scowling at them and Harry's got his mouth agape in aggression.

And, before he can even drawl out his usual " _Heeey_ ," when being affronted like that, Harry snaps his mouth shut when he sees Louis stopping the boys from their tracks and pinching at each their ears and twisting _hard_.

"Ow, hey!" Aaron gasps, eyes going ten times big once they land on Louis. "Mr. Tommo," he squeaks out weakly, together with Francis who is also wincing as he tilts his head to the stretch of his ear.

"What are you both kids doing? Slapping a girl's ass? A boy's ass? Really? Detention!" Louis yells authoritatively at their faces, sending Harry a reassuring glance.

Cara looks at Harry with wide impressed glossy eyes, and Harry just shrugs, instantly relieved and feeling secured. Kendall, Melly, Cara and him all go the same direction to head to their homeroom, passing by Aaron and Francis who are still captives of Louis' possession, sticking their tongues out at them. "Karma is a female dog, huh, Aaron?" Cara snarls, raising a perfectly trimmed brow.

Louis smirks at the four of them, while both boys are not looking, and Harry is the luckiest boy on earth, to have such a handsome, handsome knight in shining armor, fuck.

♡♡♡♡

"Do we really need a sunscreen? Don't want to tan a bit, Lou?" Harry asks as he looks at shelves and shelves of various lotions and sunblocks at a department store aisle, walking along with Louis, pushing a small cart with them.

This is the errand they've been meaning to run ever since the invite at the Maliks, for the pool get-together that's going to be held on Saturday, and so far they have set their minds to get some sunscreens, goggles and some pair of couple swimming trunks, because they're sappy like that.

"Why, of course," Louis affirms, pecking the top of his head quickly, careful not for other grocery shoppers to catch them doing just that, considering they're still in their school attires and that would draw attention to the fact that there is so much gaps between their ages. "Just in case, baby," Louis is continuing to say, "Besides, you don't wanna kiss your milky skin goodbye yet, do you?"

"Well," Harry sighs, as though he really has a care about this, which, he hasn't. Just really wants to hear Louis' opinions about everything. "I suppose you're right. I'm still pretty much fond of my current skin complexion."

"So, there you have that," Louis chirps, going for a bottle of sunscreen, one where it says SPF 70. Harry kinda wants to snort at it, because really, why swim if you don't intend to at least get a bit of tan lines? SPF 70 blocks about 97% of chances of having them. "What to get next? Goggles, right? Now, why do we even need _that_?"

This time, Harry can't keep himself from gaping at Louis. "Well, because _I_ am gonna use it, Lewis. I don't wanna hurt my eyes under some chlorinated water, thank you very much."

Louis chuckles, raising his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, fine. Go get your goggles then, Your Highness, jeez."

Harry huffs. "Watch me do so."

"Watch your mouth, young one," playfully scolds Louis, using his professor tone.

Harry mocks affronted, hand clutched to his chest. " _You_ watch your mouth, Mr. Lewis. I suck your dick, F-Y-I, you don't get to call me 'young one' anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Louis rolls his eyes, but he breaks anyway, bursting in laughter. Harry laughs too after a five-second delay.

They get to the counter after some moments, to pay for the sunscreen and some other stuff they took from different aisles such as veggies for purposeful stocks, some frozen meats, canned foods for Louis' pets, and then they leave for the third floor where the swimming trunks are and Harry's precious goggles he knows would also be.

Their pick for a couple trunks are dark with little turtles pattern in them. Harry falls in love the first time he sees them at a rack, and Louis seems to love them just as much as he does, so they purchase them. Harry gets himself a neon green goggles, some slippers too, and then they grab another couple towels; pink for him, blue for Louis.

They end their day with ice cream cones in their clammy hands, Harry's treat. He settles for a vanilla flavored one that's dipped with chocolate, topped with colorful sprinkles, and then a mint chocolate chip one for Louis. Louis drives them back to his flat in a while with their shopping bags, and Harry gets greeted by Lee and Saturn at the front step in the form of rubbing their bodies against his shins.

"Forgot to ask, Haz," Louis starts, heading to the kitchen.

"Hmm?" He responds almost too quickly, scooping Lee up in his arms and letting Saturn wander about by himself.

"Told the girls yet?" Comes Louis' question.

"Yep!" Harry pops the _p_ , knows already what he meant by that--whether Harry has invited his friends to the pool get-together.

"Good. They deserve themselves some celebration too, yeah? In a form of relaxation. You lot are graduating in a week. It'll be for the best." And Harry very well knows this--Louis has told him this ever since he's invited him to this, and Harry is the happiest having the knowledge that he'll finally be graduating, more so with his four best friends, with his once just fantasy that he's already got in the palm of his hands before the school year even ends.

"Yeah, I know," he tells Louis, as he stands there at the entryway of his kitchen, grinning at him and cradling Lee against his chest. "Thank you for including them."

Louis looks at him and smiles. "You're welcome, baby. You all deserve it. I'm happy you've got such ace mates who are always sticking by your side."

Harry bites his lip. "Me too, Lou. Me too..."

♡♡♡♡

It's a Saturday and Louis is already at the Maliks when he texts Harry the address of their place. They've had an agreement the day before they'll arrive separately because of course Harry has to drive there with his girl friends, and Louis can go alone anyway, so now Harry's in his flat with Cara rummaging food in his fridge, Kendall looking for her bras in the guest room, Eleanor lounging on his couch, and Melly packing her things with him in his room.

"Haz? Where did you put my bra?" Kendall calls from the other room.

Harry answers immediately, not thinking, "I think Louis got them all thrown in the dryer."

"Louis?" Harry hears her gasp. "Why the hell would you let our fucking teacher do that! Oh my god! That was so embarrassing!"

"Well maybe if you cleaned up after your mess, no good soul would have the need to do it for you!" Harry counters back. Melly in front of him is giggling, and Harry can't help giggle along, especially when they can hear Cara laughing out loud all the way from the kitchen, and Kendall is wailing from the guest room.

"Tossers!" Kendall shrieks.

"Hey... You guys done yet?" Eleanor asks in a bored tone after a while, suddenly standing at the door of Harry's bedroom. She's already through with her own packing, apparently, is wearing a loose white shirt and a pair of fatigue bikini from underneath, an aviator sunglasses over her head, and a mini denim short for her bottoms. Harry can also see she's just in her yellow sandals, and he can't help but feel all warm and giddy inside. He can't believe that even the ever dodgy Eleanor is tagging along with them--this is going to be so epic.

"Yeah, El! Just a few more," Harry chimes, nodding at her as he packs his goggles and looks for his elastic band. He turns back to Eleanor. "Erm, can you like, go check on Kendall and see if she's all set? Thanks."

"Sure." Eleanor shrugs and walks off.

Cara pops up at the door next, munching on some frozen pizza. "Oi, we're taking too long!" She exclaims between chews. "Hurry up, people!"

"Coming!" Melly answers, a bit frustrated now as she zips up her bag. Harry zips up his, too. "Okay, we're done!"

"Fucking _finally_!" Cara guffaws, almost dropping the pizza, Kendall and Eleanor passing by the hallway with both their own bags slung around their shoulders.

As they all crowd outside of the flat, Harry locks the door and they make it down the commercial building. He fishes out his phone as they load their things in the trunk, and then scrolls past a few messages to tap on his and Louis' conversation for the address.

They use Melly's pale pink convertible car, with the hood drawn back and the wind freely blowing on their faces, arms propped on windows like in the movies; Eleanor takes the wheel, while Harry rides shotgun and the other three squeezed at the back. Cara requests that Harry plays something on the radio, so Melly instructs that he plugs in his phone, and just play something.

Harry chooses his Summer Fun playlist and Wouldn't It Be Nice by The Beach Boys begins playing, making the three girls at the backseat squeal and sing along, raising their arms up as if the song is for partying when it's really about loving someone the way you want to. Harry laughs at them however, fairly aware his dimples must be in full display, and it's only then that Eleanor one more time asks him about the address of the venue.

Truth be told, Harry's fidgety and a tad bit anxious on the way there, despite outwardly he's bantering with Cara and Kendall, the typically jolly pair, not because he's afraid about anything though, but only because finally he's about to meet the two constant stars of Louis' many, many stories told, Zayn and Niall Malik.

Surely, it still saddens him that he can't meet Louis' family yet because of his youth (which is just fucking pathetic if you come to think of it), but again, they're taking risks here, so he supposes he has to be patient for now. Besides, he's finally turned eighteen, just a few more years now and he'll be hugging the life out of Louis' mum and siblings in person... Just the thought itself about being with Louis for years on end is making the butterflies in Harry's stomach flutter wildly.

It doesn't take long now before Eleanor finally finds the right location of the Maliks, thanks to her brains and tactful ways of course, as Melissa kindly puts it.

And, it would've been a lot quicker for them to unload their bags from the trunk, right, only if they aren't gaping blatantly, only if what Louis has informed them about this house being just a house was exactly as he called it, a _house_ , because as it turns out, this isn't just a house--a _house_? Really?-- it's a freaking mansion for heaven's sakes.

Harry clearly remembers Louis saying that the Maliks are filthy rich, saying the Irish blood is the pure one, the main root and source, but Harry didn't expect it to be _this_ kind of wealthy. And he can see that the girls are sharing the same sentiment, if the look on their faces are anything to go by.

There are these tall massive gates that are painted gold and silver (or were those even just painted?) at the front of the mansion, with freaking _gargoyles_ at either side of them, with two maids in matching French uniform that made way for their car just now, and Harry has definitely, definitely taken in the look on the front lawn that almost seems like an entire hacienda in some Spanish telenovela.

Tall bushes trimmed in shapes and characters are also lining the flowerbeds by the front of the white palace-esque mansion, as if they were taken out at a Tim Burton's Edward Scissorhand movie, along with some working fountains and sprinklers, some guy in yellow jumpsuit watering a couple of colorful flowers at the right side of the some metres lawn. Harry breathes out just as a hand taps his shoulder, getting startled himself.

He cranes his neck to the side to see who it is, and he's met with a pair of deep, brown eyes. "Still alive, H? Shall we go inside?" It's Eleanor, and even she has pushed her aviators at the top of her head, probably to gawk subtly at the wealth before her.

Nodding wordlessly, Harry reaches for his phone again and dials Louis' number. He picks up in an instant. "Hey, baby!" Louis beams on the other line. Harry can hear some other voices in the background, all men, no girls or any woman's voice, and that alone already has Harry's heart beating fast against his chest. Must be Niall and Zayn.

"Hi. Uhm." He swallows, feeling the scalding heat of the sun prickling against his scalp all the sudden, making him produce sweat. "We're here, Lou. Should we just, like..."

"Oh-- oh, yeah! Yeah, Haz. Just ring the doorbell and Annie should get you and lead you inside." _Annie? Who's Annie?_

As if on cue, while Harry's still on the phone with Louis, Cara and Kendall have apparently already rang the doorbell, thus now a lady in a black suit and tie is standing in the front, tall, white doors, and is beckoning for the lot of them to step inside. She's bowing her head in such a formal manner, and gesturing that they come inside in the most posh, politest way possible, and Harry is...

He almost drops his phone. He's perfectly aware Louis is still on the other line, but Harry is floating in subspace out of being so overwhelmed though, so he isn't able to control himself no more, he hangs up the call against his will.

He and Eleanor climb up a few steps to get to where Melly, Cara, and Kendall are, which is at the topmost part of the porch, and that is when they finally see the woman in black suit and tie a lot clearer, smiling calmly in an almost robotic way--white pearls and clear skin, no less. "Hello, my name is Annie, I'm one of the few butlers in this household. Please, come in."

Nodding their heads--rather politely and ridiculously in sync--Harry noticing Kendall tipping her girlfriend's chin up for her jaw has apparently dropped, blue eyes wide and directed at the...admittedly beautiful and immaculate butler before her, the five of them trudge together inside with their stuff, gazes racking the humongous palace at once, and yet again, they're taking in another whole set of huge, spilling, and effortless luxury.

Candles are lit everywhere, which should be odd if any, but in this golden and silver mansion, they only made everything look the more expensive and antique. There are long, plush and silk couches settled inside, rose gold hues and red velvets, and some tall, silky curtains the color of the morning sky, very neat and thick.

The televisions by one corner are large and slim, about two of them in just one spacious and big living room, complete with Xbox, Wii, Magnum speakers the size of mini fridges, and one vintage jukebox at the side, serving as entertainment fillers. Harry can also sight a neat alignment of vinyls and DVDs somewhere there, even cassette tapes and video tapes, which, that's just wicked, innit. Everything just seems...vintage. And Harry is one impressed little bean.

Louis has got such filthy, _filthy_ rich mates, what the fuck. And to think that this is only the living area. The living area with the high ceilings, stylish, crystal chandeliers, dark blue carpets, and a mezzanine that must lead _somewhere_. Somewhere that's probably all made out of gold as well.

"Goodness, Harry," Melissa whispers breathlessly in his ear a little later, holding his shoulder as she tiptoes to his height. "Your boyfriend is trying to give us heart attacks, isn't he? His mates are _illegals_. This is so extra..."

And, really, Harry can only shake his head to avoid from coming off too floored, agreeing so hard with that impalpable understatement.

Just as he's returned his attention back to the talking butler, he hears her already saying, "...so come follow me please, ladies and gent. Sirs Niall and Zayn are by the pool with their guests Luke and Louis. They wish for me to lead you there," and Harry takes that as his cue to fasten the bag on his shoulders and begin walking.

"Alright," Eleanor mutters next to him, nodding her head. Annie nods too, and then she starts heading a certain path that is most definitely not the stairway to heaven, Harry tells himself, but rather a long, bright, and quiet hallway with too many yellow lights, that will lead them to this pool she and Louis have been speaking of.

The rest of them are still gawking at the luxurious place as they walk, although mostly Harry's just noticing the way Cara is walking too close to the butler and is looking at her for longer than normal almost bordering on creepy, which is--well, not so surprisingly of her, really.

Harry catches Kendall's passiveness as she pinches her side, and Cara is suddenly peppering her girlfriend with loud kisses when she's snapped back to the now, and Harry suddenly is exhaling the breath he hadn't notice he's apparently been holding throughout. He just... he can't imagine a universe where Cara and Kendall are fighting over some beautiful woman, is the thing, or much worse, breaking up because of infidelity or any of that horrible, ugly method. They're too good for that, too in love. Cara and Kendall are almost celebrating their third anniversary, alright? Annie is just another pretty face...

Anyway, speaking of; they finally make it to the pool, Harry presumes at least, since Annie has once and for all stopped on her tracks. Harry's heartbeats race faster at this, already hearing some people laughing at some story told, and _his Louis_ saying something from the other side of this sliding door where they're standing about right now.

"We've arrived. You may go inside," says Annie professionally, and in a matter of seconds, she's gone. Kendall has got Cara wrapped around her waists like a clingy koala.

Looking at his friends, directing his gaze to Eleanor who's looking quite bored as per usual, and Melly who's giving him this encouraging smile, Harry holds on to the handle of the door.

"Here goes nothing," he says, rather shakily, nervously, as he pushes the sliding door open and stepping outside the sunny, open pool area.

_Okay, so._

There a few things Harry notices at first as he gets in, and one of them is the wide blue green round pool at the center of the place, with currents creating subtle waves; second are the tall plants in huge pots that are decorating the area's corners, and then thirdly some square-shaped Jacuzzis nestled together at one side, and lastly, some wooden pool chairs with one navy blue hammock tied to a pair of real trees.

And like, if Harry was nervous just now having strolled the inside of the Maliks, then he's unfortunately positive that he's feeling rather troubled right this minute, aware how he's so out of place and the lot, he and the girls alike. Because, even the silence of his girl friends behind him is not helping at all either, like, they're all probably in the same page here, thinking that maybe they shouldn't have just gone...

But then, just when he's about to back out now, about to run away from the overly out of his league scene, Harry, he's suddenly seeing Louis jogging over to them, topless with his hair all damped, wearing only the swimming shorts that's identical to Harry's, the one they bought with turtles pattern on them, and--and Harry is feeling so much better again. _Relieved_.

"Harry, baby," Louis breathes in his ear as he engulfs him in for a warm hug, one arm coming around his waist, the other at the back of his head. He's a bit soaked, Louis, especially from down his waists, his trunks dripping madly, heavily smelling of chlorine, but Harry still hugs him back anyway, just as hard like they haven't seen each other all year.

"Hello, Lou," he whispers back, arms finally closing around Louis' back, pressing his lips against Louis' neck and breathing him in. Harry can feel his girl friends burning holes on his back as they look on, while he carries on with embracing Louis like this--for quite a stretched, treasured while.

With the kind of attention he's being given, Harry can practically feel his ego boost up and skyrocket by miles, having an adult boyfriend while everyone else is only graduating and is yet pining with their teenager crush. Because like, Harry finally got what he wanted, has fixed everything with him too, all their secrets unfolded, and he's letting his friends see it with their very own eyes.

Once they part, Harry watches as Louis greets the girls next. Properly.

Cara hugs Louis first, shooting a wink towards Harry from behind Louis' back as she pats Louis twice, The Cheeky Bastard. "Glad you came, Miss Delevingne."

"Oh, please, _Louis_ , just Cara is fine when we're outside of school!" She chirps, letting go. "Besides, you're--sorry in advance for my French, but--you're practically fucking my best friend. No need for formality!" She laughs, loudly, and while Harry's got his heart stuck on his mouth because one of his best friends is being such a complete knob, Louis surprises them all when he bursts out in laughter similar to Cara's instead of scolding her and embarrassing Harry for her chosen behaviour.

It's Melly that Louis hugs next, washing away the stunned look on her face just when he's enveloped her in a full armed hug, because of Cara's treatment towards Louis too, probably, and that just makes Louis chuckle in her ears. He and Harry have the same mind every once in a while it seems. "Hey, hey, it's fine, Melissa. We all know Cara is my girl version, so I say it's pretty normal for her to act that way. Still remember me' teenage years, I used to spend my entire high school in detention, which sucked. One of the reasons I hate putting my students there; don't want them to feel what I felt back then." They pull away, and Louis holds Melissa's softening gaze. "But I suppose Harry is an exception. Anyone who gives him shit, will face my wrath."

"Uh, wow. Yeah, I... yeah, that's..." Melly is speechless, cheeks all tainted red, Cara on her left is grinning, clearly impressed, same with Kendall... but then so is Harry. And, Louis is actually doing this, isn't he? He's trying to win his friends, oh god.

When Kendall takes on the spotlight, Harry doesn't miss the part where she squeezes on Louis' bum, and he swears he hears Louis' little gasp. "Thank you for inviting us, Louis!" She says happily, and Louis is once again letting spill genuine laughter at this, letting go afterwards and ruffling Kendall's hair.

"Hey, no problemo, kid," Louis chirps, eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiles that super freaking nice smile that he possesses. Harry is so fond of that smile he sometimes dreams endlessly about it. Almost.

The last one Louis approaches is Eleanor, wrapping his arms around her, and at this is where everyone's eyes are glued to. Like some type of enigma, all attention is immediately pulled--everyone anticipating for both the best and the worst. Harry witnesses as Eleanor rubs at his boyfriend's back, like they've been friends for a while now, eyes casted downwards, with Louis also patting softly on her back. No words are being exchanged yet, except for their breathing against each other's shoulders, and then the next thing is they're parting.

"Good to have you onboard, El," Louis finally says, breaking into a grin and nodding at Eleanor, then that crinkly eyed smile appearing again.

To his utter surprise, Harry sees Eleanor break into a grin identical to Louis', teeth all out, and that's how their first, little public communication ends.

Harry doesn't think he'll ever see something that will top that for the entire day.

Maybe. Probably.

Or perhaps not, because after all the first greetings with his friends, Louis is at last ushering them further inside, his hand heavy on the small of Harry's back, as if serving as a reminder _they're not done here yet,_ and then they are eventually being led towards two gorgeous men that are camped under some pool umbrella.

"Harry, girls, these are Zayn and Niall, the owners of this place, and of course," he sighs dramatically, "my ever so _lovely_ friends." Louis said that last part rather obnoxiously, which makes Harry snort mentally, but he holds himself up with a polite smile anyway, considering amongst everyone he's probably the most expected guest here.

"Hello!" One with the bleached blond hair, roots a darker shade of brown, cheeks all _pink_ , waves excitedly at them as he greets, all wide grins and lively crystal blue eyes directing their attention towards everybody. "Good to see y'all! I'm the Niall that Louis was speakin' 'bout, and this one right here--," he motions to the guy next to him, the one who looks like they walked out of some high end fashion magazine, or perhaps one of those Instagram famous who have all the rights to caption "woke up like this" when they're fully groomed, hair a jet-black, all white pearls, easy smirk, and perfect jawline, _wow_ , "--is Zayn, my wife."

The guy, Zayn, laughs at his husband's comment, whom Harry can easily declare to be the Irish one between them, Niall, what with the accent and everything. "Wife," Zayn laments, laughing again. His voice is soft and he seems like the quiet type, although Harry knows better not to judge though. Just yet, at least. "I thought I was the hubby, but fine. Anyway." He finally looks up and addresses them as a whole, standing up like Niall already is. "Zayn Malik here. You must be Harry," his brown eyes flick towards Harry directly, and then he's extending a hand, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Rooted to his spot, Louis has the need to nudge him to bring him back to reality, and when he is, Harry takes Zayn's offered hand and shakes it. "Hello. Uhm."

" _Uhm_ ," Louis, Niall and Zayn say in unison, and the girls from either side of Harry are giggling, except of course for Eleanor. Harry is so fucking numb right now with the right amount of embarrassment, although he must give them the credit that at least they said it in a fond way... so maybe this embarrassment is because of being lent so much attention rather than being shamed about his mannerism.

"I, uhm... it's nice to finally meet you too," he still urges himself to say, looking at Zayn and those warm, kind eyes, and then sending a dimpled smile on Niall's way, too. "You as well, Niall. Louis told me so much a 'bout you two."

With him being regarded like that, Niall instantly hops forward and tackles Harry in for a bear hug, which of course sends Harry's mind whirling--and, bear hug because he's _swaying_ them while he squishes Harry in his rosy white skinned arms, even humming under his breath. "You cute, adorable thing with the curly, springy hair and dimples and eyes so _greeeen_ ," Niall coos in his ear. He literally fucking coos, and Harry doesn't know what to do with himself, oh gosh. He must look a freakin' red _apple_.

"Okay, okay, enough with that," Louis eventually says, prying Niall off of Harry. "Go greet the ladies too, will ya?" He shoos him, gesturing to the girls.

Harry looks beside him, and Zayn is already hugging each of the ladies, welcoming them warmly. Cara is looking quite starstruck again with this--with Zayn, and that brings relief to Harry for some reason, just recalling how she acted with Annie earlier. That wasn't a love at first sight is what he realizes. Just that Cara's fond of attractive people, which, that totally makes sense since Kendall is a walking goddess herself and they're together.

"Come on, babe, let's have you settled," Louis tells him after a while, after the whole first intros--and after he's seen Niall peck Melissa's forehead, ruffled Eleanor's hair (damn), and high-five Kendall and Cara (god they're such _teenagers_ that invaded the adults lane)--walking him over to one of the five pool chairs in the area.

They set his bag down, and then Harry flops down on the soft cushioned wooden pool chair, Louis sitting next to him and cupping his face. "How are you letting up, sweet?" He asks, voice soft and, frankly, sounding a bit nervous. For some odd reason, Harry's somehow glad he's not the only one and that Louis himself is in the same page as he.

"I'm fine, Lou. Good, uh, your mates seem so... seem so nice." Harry knows he's blushing. He doesn't care. Much.

"They are, babe. You'll see." _I believe you_ , he doesn't say.

♡♡♡♡

Time ticks like a time bomb, and minutes in to their settlement in the pool chairs, the girls already stripping out of their shorts and tops to reveal their pastel and dark shaded bikinis, another guy who's tall and tan comes strolling in inside the pool area with an airy sway. It turns out his name is Luke, and Louis once again introduces him to them all.

Shake hands are exchanged everywhere, white teeth and wide smiles, bright eyes and polite nodding. But that was until Luke's eyes bore into _him_. Harry notices the stunned look on his face, eyes wide for just a beat and then softening in seconds flat, offering a hand towards Harry to shake too. Harry doesn't know what that means, is curious a little, but he lets it go quicker than it lasted nonetheless. After all, Louis is already pulling him to head to the showers so they can start swimming.

Bum slapping each other as they giggle their way over to cannonball to the pool, Harry barely catches Louis scooping him up from the back of his thighs and then carrying him, running them both and jumping in the deep blue waters. Harry cackles hysterically, chest almost heaving furiously as he keeps his head up the surface, seeing Louis with the little his visions are letting him have, the older man wheezing in broken laughter too.

They swim for a while, their soaked half naked bodies tangling from underwater, legs and thighs touching, as they kick to try to keep on floating. They dip their heads too, eyes opening in the blue water, and Harry suddenly remembers his goggles. But before he takes off to take it with him and back to the pool, he snogs Louis first--it's their first proper snog for today, wrapping his arms around his neck, while Louis snakes both arms around his waists and keeping him pressed against him.

Once they go back up on surface to get some air, Harry takes a notice of his surroundings--Cara, Kendall and Melissa have finally joined them, splashing waters at each other and giggling about, wearing their bikinis and throwing this colorful bouncy beach ball. He suspects that's what's Melly has been blowing some air into before they jumped in, and thinks she's done a fair job because it looks at least round rather than half-deflated.

They scatter about after some time, Harry has returned back to their pool chair and grabbed on his goggles, wearing it around his neck first and putting his hair up in a tangled wet bun.

Before he rejoins his friends in the pool, Harry watches on with gleam in his eyes his friends mingle with Louis. They're playing catch using the ball, Louis yelling instructions and rules, Cara nodding along and Kendall shrugging like she doesn't care. And, Harry smiles at this, can feel his cheeks stretching and flushing. Zayn and Niall are feeding each other fruits on their own pool chair, Niall grinning and then kissing Zayn on his strawberry juice stained lips, licking them and pulling back. Harry looks away before he's caught staring.

He also sees Eleanor is just sunbathing alone at one corner, earphones in her ears, probably listening to Drake croon. And until she isn't anymore, alone to herself that is, because then Luke is occupying the space next to her. She removes her earphones and nods at the guy, and then they're suddenly conversing, little smiles and gazes casted before them.

Harry is about to get back to the waters then, readying himself upon standing up to his feet, but then--Zayn keeps him from going just yet.

"Hey," Zayn says, voice small, approaching him. He shoots Harry an acknowledging grin, and then sits next to him.

"Hi." Harry nods with a small smile.

"Having fun, I reckon?"

"Yes," Harry answers instantly, "Thank you for the invitation. Heard this is for celebrating our upcoming graduation."

"It is, it is." Zayn nods, and then he looks at him through squinted eyes. "Congratulations on that one, by the way."

"Thanks," Harry grins.

After that, silence washes over them. Niall is looking at them from his chair, just gazing about and still munching on some fruits. Louis, Cara, Melissa and Kendall are still playing volleyball by the pool, and Harry catches the scene where Melissa has the ball whirling towards Cara, hitting her in the face and the rest of them laughing their asses off--and, that's when Harry remembers that, amongst them all, Melly is the fittest. She goes to the gym regularly, and her Instagram feed and toned abs are enough evidences of that, so.

"Listen, Harry," Zayn starts out of the blue, and Harry's heart is suddenly on his mouth just hearing the way he said those, "Don't tell Lou, but... I kinda know who you are."

And, it's like something hard has punched Harry in the guts, the air in his lungs catching, just by being eye-to-eye with Zayn right now. He gulps, his drying throat making it harder for him to take another one.

"What are y--"

He gets cut off when Zayn continues quickly, although still sounding lazy, "And that was brave what you did. Giving everything up for the one who truly makes you happy." _He fucking knows I'm a fucking camboy. Holy asdfghjkl._ "I know I would've done the same."

"How... I..." Harry is once again a fish out of water.

Zayn tacks on, still looking chill as fuck-all, "Rank seventeen, weren't you? Next to Kyler fucking Moss. Wicked awesome, that, let me just say."

Harry's chlorinated toes are numbing now being out of the water for so long, fuck. _Even his rank at PPC Zayn knows._

"Y-yeah...seventeen."

"Shit," Zayn curses softly under his breath, smiling down on his lap, "can't fucking believe I'd be meeting the famous Hey Angel Ninety Eight like this--as my best friend's boyfriend. And you two seem so gone for each other too." He looks up to meet Harry's gaze again. "I mean, you two _are_ so in love. Bet even a blind man would see through you all." He shakes his head; Harry still refuses to speak, words dying on his throat. "No worries, Harry, yeah? I hold no judgement. Zero of it, nada. I was a loyal sub. _Still_ am a fan, me."

"Uhm..." _Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god._ So this is how it feels like being recognized outside of school once you've got a proper relationship you're protecting then, huh.

"I also know about the girl, by the way," Zayn is saying, and at this, Harry perks up. "Eleanor over there?" He points to where Eleanor is laughing peacefully with Luke. "Niall and I... we kind of have this thing for...you know. Visiting porn sites." Zayn turns red, Harry notes. He's got his kinks with his husband then, and those kinks happen to involve Harry and Eleanor. Jesus fuck. "So if you noticed earlier, Niall went ballistic when he hugged you like that. Think he'd even offer a threesome." He chuckles. "We used to offer that a lot to Lou, but he never budged, and I highly doubt he would now."

"Oh..." Harry's cheeks are so hot one can probably fry an egg on them.

"Yeah." Zayn grins toothily, handsome as hell.

"Uh, anyway-- yeah... guess that makes sense now, the Niall part," Harry speaks up half-decently for the first time after those moments he didn't, ever since Zayn admitted to knowing about his past camboying.

He sees Zayn nod, and then he looks past his shoulder and catches a glimpse of Eleanor's smiling face--looking so genuine under the sunlight, eyes squinted and pink lips stretched out wide. And then Harry's gaze drops on Luke, and that's when it hits him.

_"One night, my mates and I went bar hopping around Manchester, and we got smashed for the better part of the night, and when we stumbled back home, this other mate of mine named Luke, introduced me to pay per come dot com."_

_"At first I thought it was ridiculous, because I didn't think watching porn would solve my life problems, right, but then three days in, I stumbled upon your account."_

Harry's eyes go wide, the way Luke has reacted to him when they shook hands earlier flashing before his eyes, and by that he can almost hear his pulses thumping wildly. _That_ Luke is the _one_ who introduced Louis to PPC, the one and only who showed him his videos.

Which means...

_Eleanor_.

"Uh, sorry, Zayn, but. May I excuse myself for a minute?" Harry stumbles out to say, already standing on his jittery legs, ears ringing in sudden rage. Zayn dismisses him easily, smiling languidly, completely oblivious to his building up anger.

When Harry approaches Eleanor and Luke, not wasting any more time, the guy seems to be telling some stuff about...penguins? And Eleanor is giggling freely, looking so relaxed with her head tilted to the side and teeth flashed as she smiles. Harry hasn't seen her be so bold like this before--Luke must be succeeding with...whatever the fuck it is he's trying to play at here.

Well, if that's the case then Harry has to stick to his plan.

"Hello," he says, waving at them. The two look up, and Eleanor blinks at him while Luke is seemingly stunned to see him. Again. "Can I like, talk to him for a second?" He gestures to Luke, telling Eleanor.

Shrugging like it's no big deal, which, it shouldn't be since they literally just met, Eleanor waves them off. "Sure," she mutters, and then Harry is pulling Luke up to his feet.

"Come with me," Harry mumbles. Luke lets himself be dragged, and Harry is thankful that neither Louis (whom Harry guesses is aware about the elephant in the room, but is just choosing to keep quiet) nor the others are noticing them sauntering away to stand behind some post foundation.

"What is it you want to tell me--"

Harry doesn't let him finish, he pushes him up against the post and locks his neck up against it. "Listen here, _pal_ , I know that you _know_ , yeah? And I also know that you know what I'm talking about, so I'm only saying this _once_." He pauses for breath. Luke looks like he's gonna shit himself, turning away a little, which. Huh. Is Harry really that scary? Doesn't matter. "If you try anything stupid with my best friend, I will fucking hunt you down and cut your balls off myself and feed it to my pet shark, understand?"

"You-- you have a pet shark?" Luke squeaks.

Harry doesn't answer that, instead, "Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Luke squeaks out again, nodding vigorously. "Crystal, Harry," he repeats, louder this time.

"Good." Harry lets go of him.

"I am... I'm not hitting on Eleanor just because of..." Luke trails off, looking down. "If that's what you think."

"Well, you better not be," Harry mutters, scoffing. None of them will mention the porn site, he bets.

"She's really fun, I think. I mean. I _genuinely_ think, like. Eleanor is a nice girl," Luke stammers, biting on his lip.

Harry looks at him and narrows his gaze. "She is. She's not just some...some..."

Luke sighs. "I know, I know, I doubt she is. She's the smartest girl I've ever met. And...and, Harry."

"What?"

"I honestly respect your previous profession, just so we're clear. I respect Eleanor's too, most especially."

And--fuck if Luke didn't look so sincere right now...

So, "Okay," Harry finally settles with. They both nod in silent understanding and agreement, and that is the end of that.

Harry comes up behind Louis later, where he is lying on their pool chair with his sunglasses on, eyes shut presumably considering he doesn't notice Harry leaning over him and creating silhouettes with the sunbeams.

Harry aims for his parted lips, kissing Louis Spider-Man style for a moment, and then mumbling, "I love you so much," before pressing his lips against him again, harder this time.

Louis sighs against their mouths, and then he deepens the kiss when he holds Harry from the back of his head, pushing him down against his moving lips firmer. "I love you most, my baby girl," Louis murmurs.

And, it gets passionate enough from there, loud and wet and messy, with Harry upside down and Louis, Harry's lower lip being suckled by Louis and Harry nibbling on Louis' own bottom lip in return, too.

They only cut it off when the husbands Niall and Zayn shoot them with their water guns, reducing the girls into wild laughing hyenas.

Their day at the pool eventually comes to an end, the lot of them packing up before midnight.

They all thank Zayn and Niall for the invite, who let Luke stay over for another night at their place, smiling shyly at them and bowing his head.

Melly has driven her car with Kendall, Cara and Eleanor, whom she dropped off one by one on their respective chosen stops, while Louis took Harry home with him.

They're spooning in Louis' bed now after some time, after they've showered and changed into some new fresh sleeping clothes, feeling exhausted and still smelling of chlorine despite themselves, their bags still untouched just sat on the floor at the foot of the bed. Harry is planning on taking care of those comes morning, because for now he'll sleep with his boyfriend.

Lee and Saturn are snuggled in bed with them, the black one nestled against Harry's arms, and the orange one behind Louis.

"You're finally graduating in a week..." Louis murmurs against Harry's skin, pressing soft kisses on that one same spot. "How are you feeling about that, pumpkin?"

Smiling, Harry breathes out, and he answers feeling so fond, "Happy. You're gonna meet Gems, I'm gonna meet your sisters, so like. Obviously, I'm so happy."

He can hear Louis grinning lazily, sleepily. "Good."

Harry hums. _Yeah. Good_ , his inner subconscious agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you, once again, for tuning in and for being so patient with me. i hope i don't bore you :( feel like i'm terrible at what i'm doing tbh, but. i love writing anyway, so...
> 
> this isn't over yet, lovelies. there's still some people louis and harry have to meet. still got some plot holes to cover, soooo. wish to see y'all on the next update xxx


	12. my eyes start to roam to the curl of your lips in the center of eclipse ♥

It's when the night kisses the day goodbye, the chirping birds emerging from far away towns, the usual dull clouds to make way for the brightly twinkling stars, that Harry lies limp and pliant on his bed, eyelids heavy with lust and burning desire--overflowing wanton mixed with pure admiration--for his older boyfriend of merely a year, Louis, who's currently showering him with gentle smooches and trails of tender fingertips right across his unmoving body.

He had wanted to be tied up on all fours, but they both decided it'd be rather impossible for now, what with the thought of being just home from a day at the tattoo parlor, Harry getting his first ever...with Louis holding his hand throughout.

It's an anchor, a black inked, perfectly illustrated anchor by a friend of Harry's, Glenne, and it was inked to his left wrist, much like the same with where Louis had his rope tattoo, only that he has it on his right wrist. Call Harry a sap, but just by thinking about the solidified fact of being the origin of the entire idea of even having it in first place, is causing his heart to grow ten times larger.

And, like, the scratching and barely-there touches of Louis' stubble are not helping much either for Harry's heart's case regarding all of this; the lingering feel of his beard against Harry's chest and abdomen, the soft spikes of his two days worth of scruff over his face that he keeps at a level of contact along Harry's throat, and neck, and inner thighs. The way he hovers over Harry's submissiveness, his sweet nothings serving as some type of spiel, his nose and lips brushing gently against Harry's sensitive nipples.

"My wifey," _whisper between a kiss_ , "the sweetcheeks to my babycakes," _a soft peck, a smile against flesh_ , "my sweet, sweet little kitten." He hums, nipping at a skin to turn into sucking, and then afterwards smoothing them tiny bruises with the lap of his wet tongue. Louis caresses Harry's wrist as he goes, where Harry's bandage is present together with the pulsing albeit fading pain that is still there, his first ever and brand new ink keeping him in the realism of it all, reminding him of where he is as of the moment, making him realize he's the ever lucky boy who was taken in despite of his indisputably debatable past.

His eyes trail where delicate fingers trace, his eyelashes fluttering at every feel, his mouth hanging if just by an inch. Louis keeps him at the surface, keeps him at ease, and this--this is the path that Harry has chosen for himself, he realizes once again. And it is something that's worth everything, he knows. _Everything that's him, that he will as well soon become_.

"Lou..." He breathes out, can't quite help it, arching his back a tad, craning his neck as he anticipates for whatever, for _anything_ , for everything that Louis is willing to give him. He waits with calculated patience, exhales the air from his lungs, afraid to move so much if that could mean Louis stopping from lending his body some of his sacred attention.

"I love you," Louis tells him, and Harry without a hint of doubt believes him, wants him preaching with it.

So, "I love you too," he returns it, only because it's the absolute truth though, and that he never wishes to lie to Louis no more--not anymore. _Never again._

But he doesn't stop at that, however. He also tells him his favourite things about Louis, no matter if just the little things yet... Such as his bright, piercing blue eyes, his long and delicate eyelashes, his manly beard as Harry would like to call it, his black tattoos, strong arms and slim waist, his long hair that curls at his nape and makes him look so much handsomer, and of course his subtle dimples that only pop when he's truly, super duper happy... what Harry always hopes for him to be at all times.

Harry tells him how he loves his mannerisms too, the flick of his wrists when he's lecturing them in school, the way he sweeps his fringe to the side twice in just ten minutes when he's obviously feeling himself, the way he sasses people and teasing them... But most especially the way he laughs that his eyes would crinkle at the sides, the way his thin lips would stretch with it, the way his nose would scrunch before anything else. The fact that Harry loves all of him.

"You're too much, Harry Styles... too much," Louis rasps after hearing all those, kissing at his collarbone and peeking through his cascaded down lashes, and Harry's heart skips a beat, because boy wasn't that told ever so genuinely? If any, Louis Tomlinson is nothing but pure sincerity, always thankful as he is bashful for any and all praises thrown at him--for any and all compliments given to him by a person's own accord. And perhaps that's one of the many, many reasons as to why Harry is always in need of and obliged to pour Louis down his own seeking for heart and soul words, his raw affection of gratitude for having someone like Louis, his ever solemn tranquility for the man who saved him from himself once upon a time.

Harry is in love with such a humble, down-to-earth being, and with that he knows he's found the perfect one. Always fucking grateful for it--every day that he wakes, every time that he takes a gulp, every moment that he sees his killer smile. A fortunate eighteen year-old boy, lost in a world full of noise, found by the one he'd give his all.

Moving his arms up to accommodate the angle Louis' chosen for them both, meanwhile, Harry keeps quiet to himself as he enjoys the feeling of being, as simple as a white tee shirt, worshipped. Louis is kissing all over his body while he's left there to breathe, nipping and nibbling while he's allowed there to just exist, and saying nice and adoring things about his body, calling him beautiful and otherworldly and enchanting, and then there is him--just truly anchored and very sedated by it all. _Happy_. Satisfied and loved.

Cared for. _Pampered_ , really. A few more and shall be labeled as _babied_. Oh, what body-worshipping that would be. Nothing's impossible with Louis though. Nothing.

His hair is braided tonight, still, after more or less than forty-eight hours tops, something Eleanor did for him when she said she was bored at break time, and Louis is blatant as he twirls term by term, giving Harry this longing smile when he doesn't even need to. Because he's right there, isn't he? Harry is only lying obediently there, an all out captive of Louis' pinning stare, not planning on going anywhere at all, and yet-- _yet_ Louis looks at him like he's some caged cat that doesn't want to be anymore, looking to be rather reaching and calling out on him, eyes speaking to such extent. And, quite frankly, Harry is moved by it, entranced... And even the butterflies that have taken residence in his stomach for quite a long time now are agreeing to him just this once.

"It's for you, you know," he admits then, referring to his braided hair, some of his ringlets sticking to some directions petulantly. "I make sure I'm looking something else just for you."

At that, Louis kisses his forehead, his eyelids, his nose, his lips and staying there for far too long before moving down to his chin, and then his neck, down to his throat, collarbones...chest, little by little stopping at one of his perked up nipples. "Is that so, kitten?" Louis questions around a soft hum, eyes not averting but just staying upon where they're fixated, and that's on his heaving chest.

"Yes," Harry allows himself to be honest once more. "Yes, hubby."

And...the answering lick across his navel that Louis surprises him is something Harry never thought he'll keen for, seek for at such an ungodly amount of _want_. Be hungry about. "Hubby," exhales Louis shakily, "Love that."

"Love you more, though," murmurs Harry, insisting it.

Louis sighs. "Mhmm... Not as much as I love your body, H. That's a fact."

"Yeah?" He quips, just so--but his voice is something akin to being breathlessly pulled.

"Yeah. You're so perfect, you're so..." he trails off as he lowers himself down further, touching Harry's love handles now and smoothing his palms there. Just right there, squeezing gently. He kisses Harry's tummy, and he continues with his sentiments, saying, "so brisk and soft and... and _clean_. Such angel in disguise you are, my pretty cherub."

Swallowing hard, mouth not closing and letting up, no, none of that, Harry, for the very first time since he's lied here and stripped naked from head to toe for a still fully dressed Louis, shivers from all this adoration and attention his boyfriend is lending him full-on. Can feel his throat closing up and his dick finally going hard between his cooling thighs, can feel the ill fitting sweats that are forming across his forehead. Especially when Louis once again touches his bandage, his still fresh wound took out by having an anchor tattooed.

He thought it was the best choice, see, had thought about its design for quite the long time, as did Louis, as did the rope inked around Louis' wrist as though it speaks--thinks. Those wrists that Harry's so fond of.

Closing his eyes, heart rabbiting in his chest, Harry feels the way Louis is leaving bruises on his throat, those lovesbites that he's used to cherishing for just however long he'll sport them, those marks that tell stories such as Louis owning him, Louis taking him, and Louis making love to him. Loving every bit of it. Just loving.

Then again, Harry wonders when will Louis get enough of handling him like this, caressing him and making him feel the most beautiful creature in the entire universe to ever live... because, truthfully at this point? Harry needs Louis.

He needs him, and that is for _now_.

But he supposes he'd do the exact same with Louis, if given a chance, so maybe it'll take a bit more heartbeats and pulsing and shudders.

Of praising.

Or, well, perhaps not. Because Louis has finally settled right in between his spread out thighs, kneeling there and looking rugged, hard yet soft at the edges, _so fucking hot_ , staring down at him with such...radiating want for pleasuring. Slowly now, Louis tugs at his black tank--one of Harry's gifts for him--gaze never tearing away from Harry's owns as the time ticks by, pulling it up and over his head, revealing his golden torso and tattoos, chucking the piece of fabric on the floor.

He's so fucking...stunning. Louis is a god. A sex god.

And he is leaning back down again, his breath fanning on Harry's neck making Harry's skin crawl, warm palm closing around Harry's hardened leaking shaft; he pumps just once, twice, stroking expertly after, before letting go to thumb at the hole of Harry's bum.

Harry gasps at the contact, biting his lip as he arches his back. Louis takes that as an opportunity to make Harry open up and put two fingers in his mouth. "Suck on them," Louis commands, only lightly no less, and Harry quickly obeys. Willingly, sucking earnestly on Louis' digits and tasting the saltiness of them. Then releasing a moan once Louis' removed them with an obscene _pop_ , Harry's tongue sticking out as if it's following the taste, needing more. Harry always needs more, needs everything from Louis.

Letting a strangled groan, Harry keens responsively, clutching on the sheets of the bed and twisting hard, toes curling wantonly, especially when Louis' dark gaze is focused on him while he's inserting a finger inside, torturing and teasing, his walls tightening around it, Louis adding a second one and then thrusting deep, deep, _deeper_. Slicked up only by his own spit.

Then Louis reaches his prostate, eliciting a squeal from Harry.

"Ohh, fuck." _Harry can feel him_. He can feel him crook his fingers at such an angle, can feel him be knuckles deep.

Louis lowers his head down, and Harry follows the movement, but not anymore when he's taking Harry's cock and licking at the slit, stroking once again pulling at the foreskin, and then swallowing him down.

Louis really is done teasing now it seems, because the next thing that Harry knows is the head of his cock reaching the back of Louis' throat. He hears him choke, making Harry harder at the length, thick and throbbing and _leaking_ some more. Louis' fingers are fucking into him while he's bobbing his head up and down on his cock, but Harry only wants more.

"I... Lou... _sir_. I-- I can take another finger... please..." Harry keels, hands reaching to make contact with Louis' face, to touch those stubble he loves so much.

Humming around his dick, Louis obliges to insert a third finger next to the other two that are already inside him, fucking him raw with them, with nothing but his saliva to serve as lube. Which, damn.

Harry doesn't know how or why, but with that thought alone already has him wanting to come sooner rather than expected. His libido is flooding, drowning him, leaving him desperate and horny. And he just can't hold it any longer...

Louis' thrusts--Louis' amazing fingers--they're sending him over the edge, sending him whirling into a whimpering mess right away, legs lying limp over Louis' shoulders now as he lifts them up. Louis' head bobs up and down on his cock, wet and warm mouth wrapped tightly around his shaft, spit mixed with pre-semen making it possible for Louis' pace to go faster, slicker and swifter, hot breath surrounding Harry's cock. His senses, his abdomen. And his eyes cross because of that, rolling at the back of his head as he also throws it back.

Louis groans around him after a while, yet suckling eagerly and hungrily, not pausing with fingering him at all, stretching his hole wider, and wider, Harry can feel it, bordering on being spent and abused now, taking him wholly down and then releasing with a slick pop, his cock springing back against his tummy. Harry urges to open his eyes, look down in between his thighs, and--it's as if his cock got squeezed at the base just by being slapped with the _obscenity_ that is the look on Louis' swollen, shiny wet lips, still fucking his arsehole with three fingers, that he finally, finally comes, squirting all over his belly.

"Holy shit," Louis huskily guffaws, laughter bubbling out of his throat as he halts from fingering Harry, fingers dipping on the come across Harry's stomach. " _Baby_ ," he coos, making Harry laugh too, "that was hot. Fuck."

Harry feels his cheeks heat up despite himself. _He's just literally come, and Louis is still managing to make him blush_. How whipped is he on a scale of terribly in love to painstakingly smitten?

Shaking his head after blinking at the suddenness of Harry spurting white streaks across his own torso, probably, Louis leans down and captures his mouth for a hard and bruising kiss, tongue sliding in between his lips and Harry tasting himself from Louis' mouth. Harry moans against it, smelling himself all over Louis, his limping cock still sensitive as all hell, being brushed against Louis' jeans that he's still wearing.

"Off," Harry murmurs then, after they part for breath. "Off with your jeans, Lou. Then fuck me." _Ragged breaths_. " _Please_ ," he moans--pleads, really.

"Yes. Okay. Shit, of course," Louis rambles breathlessly, and fuck, he's really so, so fucking hot like this--fucking attractive, his sex appeal suffocating Harry and Harry's dick. Shit. After a beat, Louis' still staring down at him, blinking dazedly, and Harry has to snap two fingers in his face.

Nodding his head, once, twice, Louis scrambles up to his feet to be out of his jeans in record time, and Harry watches on as he fumbles for the button and his fly, feeling all warm and fond for his silly, silly man, seeing as he's so eager for Harry.

Just as Harry's so fucking eager for him. As always.

Flipping him over, gently for that matter, Harry sees at his peripherals the part where Louis walks over to his drawers for the lube and one packet of condom, sexy back flexing as he moves, bum so ungodly and _round_ (shit, okay, Harry's so obsessed with Louis' ass), and then coming back later to situate himself behind him, the mattress dipping at his weight. Harry's on his elbows and knees, arse poised up in the air, a bit shivering from the cold, and he can hear Louis squeezing on the bottle of lube to slick himself up. That already hardened dick of his, after he's put the condom on, that is. Harry heard that stretch of silicone plastic, making his own cock yearn for friction.

He can't get enough of Louis...he just can't.

Feeling Louis' warm body nearing his own, Harry gasps just as Louis' started to trail kisses down his spine, trailing fingertips across his skin, murmuring, "You were once my fantasy... but now you're my world, my kitten," and then he's lining himself up against Harry's stretched hole, and--he pushes in.

"Ohhh," Harry lets out, barely a whisper, really.

Louis kisses his earlobe through the first burn, his walls adjusting to the stretch, and then Louis bites at his earlobe now, before bottoming out completely. Harry moans in sync with him, Louis having perfected his thrusts out of the number of times they've fucked, has memorized how Harry likes it, where his walnut sized prostate gland would be.

"I love you so much, Harry Styles," Louis whispers in his ear, hands clutching on his waist, squeezing greedily, and then he's fucking up into Harry after a few heartbeats, hard and soundly, _slick_.

The room gets warmer and the air reeks of come and sex, the sound of Harry's moans reverberating against the walls of the dimly lighted bedroom entwine with the obscene slapping noise of skin against skin as Louis fucks him soundly. Their silhouettes cast a lewd portrait of Harry on all fours while Louis fucks him from behind on the pastel pink walls. Harry watches the shadows, mesmerized, until his eyes are rolling towards the back of his head from the pleasure pooling throughout his nerve-endings, hormones going wild and teeth gritting together as his impending orgasm nears closer and closer.

Louis' thrusts quicken, pushing Harry closer to the headboard of his bed. Harry keens loudly in the back of his throat as his thighs go lax, his own dick bobbing untouched beneath him brushing torturously against the bed sheets, as Louis fucks his prostate relentlessly.

Harry releases a string of distinctly sounding like wails that is _ah, ah, ah's_ , whereas Louis keeps on praising how he's taking him so well, how he's so beautiful being wrecked like this, caressing his back--his skin, his flesh--nonstop, and then kissing and leaving lovebites on them, making Harry arch his back as he ruts against the mattress. He rubs his dick against the sheets, quick and earnest, so fucking desperate for it, loving the feeling against his sensitive, thickening cock.

Louis clutches on his hair as he hovers behind him, pulling at his curls, fingers tangling and ruining the braided hair altogether, making Harry gasp loudly as his neck cranes upwards, following the hard tug on his scalp. Louis pushes in inside him, hard, pulls off smoothly, just so he can pound back in again, quickly, jabbing harshly at his sweet spot over and over. Harry screams at the wonderfully addictive feeling of it all, his G spot being poked and nudged, his clenching walls being slid by such heavy, big cock, letting him feel so full and fuller and just _so fucking full._

His cheeks turn numb and his teeth grind together, eyes squinting through Louis' power thrusts, which are just...they're the fucking best, hands down. _Hands fucking down._

So much better than when Harry's fucking himself with his dildos, fuck. A whole lot better, no doubt.

And it doesn't take long now until Harry's reaching his peak. "Lou- _ah_ ," become his last syllables, before he's coming for the second time tonight, shooting his load all over himself and the floral sheets of his bed, some even scattering under his chin.

"Fuck," Louis bites, and then he's following suit, spurting in a jolt right on the condom itself, while he's yet to slide out.

But then he does just that, releasing himself from Harry's spent hole, ridding of the condom and then chucking it on the trash bin that they have all readied now beside the bed; he pants out in obvious exhaustion as he flops down on the bed next to Harry's limply unmoving body, the both of them breathing heavily as one.

"God," Louis grunts, catching Harry's attention. Louis sidles his head sideways to face Harry beside him, and Harry feels butterflies in his tummy resurface, because...Louis just looks so handsome as always. His fringe is soft and down right now, a bit damped with sweats, and his scruffy jaw line is just...so surreal. Everything about him is unreal. Louis is fucking gorgeous. "Feel like I ran a fucking marathon, baby," Louis tells him with a laugh, breathless and sounding utterly tired, Harry's heart aching with the grogginess of it.

Harry reaches out, pushing some of Louis' wet fringe aside, so he can see him much better under the dimmed room. He leans in, quiet and inexplicably in love, emptying the gaps between them, kissing Louis on the mouth. Just tenderly now, not closing his eyes--refusing to miss the way Louis is watching him like this... freshly fucked and just about coming back from subspace, face and down to his neckline all flushed.

"My thirty year-old boyfriend... lacking of stamina now, are we?" Harry teases mildly, his own voice husky, smiling against their touching lips. Louis scoffs at him, muttering _minx_ under his breath, but only playfully though, no heat laced with it, brushing their noses together.

And, they lie there for a while like that, looking straightly into one another's eyes and just listening to each other breathe, no one speaking, no one moving...

It's not until Louis is eventually pulling them both up to their feet, so they can shower and clean up all the mess that they've made ever since they got back from the tattoo parlor, that Harry finally dares to ask to be carried and once again fucked against the bathroom wall, _because he's not had enough, see--nothing is ever enough with Louis_ , wanting the backs of his knees hooked over Louis' forearms, of course.

Whether they made it to second round or not, it's for their own and no one else's to mind.

♡♡♡♡

They make it out the shower at around four in the morning, blooming from head to toe as they emerge with the steam, mostly giggling at their ridiculous horny selves.

At around five o'clock, inconveniently so while they're doing yoga like loons (Louis' request for Harry to teach him his ways), Harry's stomach suddenly grumbles amidst a stroke, startling Louis into bursting in laughter and therefore dropping to the floor, clutching at his constricting tummy. Harry pouts at him despite he's imagining those yummy flexing abs underneath that tank top making him press down on his crotch, slapping at Louis' thighs, and then, " _Louuuu!_ " whining his protest.

So then they decide to have breakfast at McDonald's in the end, blowing the scented candles off as they straighten up, and then making it out the streets just to walk all the way to the restaurant hand in hand (with just their sleeping attires, more so).

They order themselves some nuggets and mashed potatoes at first, a whole bowl of gravy and then some chips, with ketchup on the side. Harry steals at Louis' plate throughout, only because he can and Louis doesn't really mind, even encouraging it actually, seeing as he's pushing his food towards Harry.

Giggling into his straw as he watches Louis munch on some mashed potatoes, Harry leans in and captures his hanging open mouth, surprising him when Harry goes licking on some gravy off of the corner of his lips. "Christ, you baby lioness," Louis guffaws at him, leaning back in again to also steal a kiss from him.

He's been dipping fries in his sundae, Louis, and Harry declares that they are the coolest people inside of McDonald's with Louis agreeing to him, because like, Coke floats at 5 am in the morning, really? Sex hazy and still reeking of come, hairs bird nests atop their silly little heads, seriously?

At the ludicrous state they're in, Harry kisses Louis because he can't help it, he's so whipped; Louis licks at his chin and snout in return, murmuring, "Cheeky," pecking at his lips again and biting on his tongue, releasing with a wet pop.

Their eyes widen at the sound of that, and Harry cackles loudly after a second delay, drawing attention and irritated glances from other customers.

They really don't care.

Especially not that Harry's got his new nail polish worn on him--a mint color of course--and Louis' telling him that he's obsessed with them, making him feel good about himself. Confident. "Thank you," he whispers wistfully to Louis, smiling down on his drink and grinning shyly.

They go home a little later when they've decided they're full, and it's to Louis' flat this time, in his room where they cuddle with Saturn and Lee. Tomorrow's a special day.

♡♡♡♡

"Off you go, little one," Harry coos, as he lets Lee hop off from being in his arms for too long, leaving him to stand by the open doorway of Louis' bedroom.

He glances back at the mirror a few steps away from him, looking at his reflection staring back at him, some five foot ten inches eighteen year-old boy with a mop of curly brown hair, has gone darker than ever, wearing some pink knitted jumper and washed denim skin-tight jeans, and then some pale yellow pair of converse clad feet.

He can see Louis still hanging by the closet and rummaging through it, still topless with his biceps flexing alongside his movements, but is already in his black skinnies nonetheless, the terms folded outwardly revealing his ankles that have the words _The_ and _Rogue_ tattooed in them. Harry watches in interest, biting on his bottom lip without even noticing himself doing it.

"Need some help there, babe?" He asks then, after a while, after Louis' sighed in exasperation and thrown another ball of socks back in an upper drawer, seemingly not having located yet what he's been looking for.

Casting him a sideways glance over his shoulder, Louis with a suspended frown shrugs and says, "Having a crisis here, H. I'm meeting your sister in less than an hour and I don't even know what to wear. Same with I don't even know if she's gonna like me or not, or maybe approve of us, you know? Or will she look at me like I'm some kind of a...fucking pedophile who had got you under some fucking... some fucking _voodoo_ shit spell, managed to lead you into this, and--"

" _Lou_ , Louis... breathe, honey. Please." Harry is in kneeled in front of Louis in a second, cupping his newly shaven face, and squeezing a little just because he still finds him adorable despite of everything. He stares at him, looks deeply into his troubled eyes...and then kisses him. Just once though, before he pulls away. Louis quiets down, sighing, shoulders sagging. Harry exhales. "So... I need you to stop worrying now, whether my sister would love you or not, yeah, babe? Because it's a guaranteed thing that she will. I told you already... We've talked about you countless of times. I've explained everything to her. And of course, I told her only the best... Because it's you, Lou, you're the best."

Harry watches as Louis bites on his lip--that lip that Harry would rather bite himself instead. He won't yet. A heartbeat, and then Louis is nodding, screwing his eyes shut, inhaling deeply. When he opens his eyes again, Harry meeting with those beautiful blue eyes, he tells him, sounding determined, "I'm gonna win your sister's trust, Haz, I will. For us."

"Yeah. Because you love me," Harry murmurs.

"I do," Louis answers quickly, nodding and cupping his face too. Louis brushes the pad of his thumb across Harry's bottom lip. "So much, actually."

 _Butterflies, fireworks, fucking somersaults_. "I know, love."

They share a mutual fond smile, and then Louis is grabbing on a white shirt, then his Adidas hoodie, wearing them both over his head. Harry waits patiently by the couch while Louis puts on his blue Adidas shoes, grabbing on his keys, wallet, and phone, and then they're leaving Louis' flat after that, heading for their car.

Moments later, they find themselves standing outside of a small red bricked building where Louis pulled over when Harry said this is it--the place Gemma had chosen for them all to meet up. It'd turned out that the owner of this recently opened shop is Gemma's old friend from Uni, that now has become her lover. She's been blabbering about this mystery girl for however long now to Harry, saying she's the coolest and at the same time the hottest, with the loveliest laugh and amazing mixed tapes, and Harry hasn't any clue yet as to whether those are even justifiable, mostly because he hasn't seen a single picture or video of the girl. Not in his and Gemma's WhatsApp chats, not in her Facebook, whatsoever, so there's that.

But Harry supposes he'll finally meet Gemma's girlfriend--after years of not having one--a few moments from now. Although, knowing his sister, this girl must really be "cool and hot at the same time", because if there's anyone Harry knows is picky when it comes to finding the one, it's Gemma Anne Styles.

As they just stand there for a few more minutes, Harry still feeling the nervousness radiating strongly from Louis in front of him, Harry chooses this moment to lift up his hands and work on Louis' outfit. He dusts the shoulders, the sleeves, despite there's nothing to dust at all. He fastens the strings of Louis' green hoodie, ruffling Louis' hair that is down today, soft and feathery against his palms as per usual, and then leans in to peck the grimace off of Louis' face. He only half-succeeds.

"Let's go inside?" Harry asks.

Louis only nods, and then they're heading toward the fiberglass doors. It's Louis who opens them as they reach for Harry to walk in first, as always.

So, the poetry bar...

It's just a small place really, filled with colorful curtains--apple green, sunny orange, happy lilac, watery teal and forlorn navy blue--that are placed on every corner of the pub, candle lights on round wooden tables and small chairs surrounding them, faded lanterns hanging overhead, attached to low ceilings that have the night sky illustrated on them. There are a couple of people inside, chatting amongst themselves and some nursing their drinks as they look over the small stage, and then there's some song playing real softly in the background. _Violet Hill by Coldplay_.

The place is cozy and looking like some place out of one of Tumblr's most reblogged posts, Hipster-ish and rocking. Aesthetically pleasing and refreshing, serene... air-conditioned and immaculate. Overall brand new. Walls filled with framed posters of some 1960's bands, and then some new artists and bands like Arctic Monkeys, The 1975, Broods, The Neighbourhood, Bon Iver, Grimes, Marina and the Diamonds, Melanie Martinez, Lana Del Rey, Panic! At The Disco, Fall Out Boy, and Pvris, together with their autographs. Which, fuck. _Wow_. Gemma's girlfriend really does seem cool then, having received all those signs? Now Harry's more intrigued. Way fucking intrigued.

There's a small stage on the center corner, a person stood behind a microphone stand speaking over the poor amount of crowd, reciting a self-penned poetry with a touch of passion lacing their voice, sharing for the customers to jumble with in their heads.

Harry looks over the area and tries spotting a woman in her early twenties, with what he knows is still donning red streaks on her black hair, one who loves wearing demin jackets and leggings, and then some band shirt underneath that jacket. Harry's potential twin due to their similar facial structure, the smile, the grin, the nose and the eyes, Gemma Styles.

Only if by physically and not mentally, that's right, since she's quite the awesome type as their childhood friends had labelled her as between the two of them, because no matter what, Harry is the uber random type, sending you text messages about asking whether it'd be better if you shaved or waxed your balls, or perhaps some weird selfies of intangible normal things, applying them with the Inked filter, and then captioning it with something as simple and as deadpanned as "Gents." or "Guacamole."

Yep, definitely the Random Styles. Gemma is the Better Styles. Harry never took offense out of it, however, very admitting. He's always idolized her, looked up to her. _So._

"Gemma!" Harry chirps, finally locating aforementioned potential twin sat on a chair facing the stage, sneaking behind her and wrapping both arms around her slim waist, one who now has a _pastel lilac_ hair it turns out, and is, still, sporting some denim jacket and the shirt, and the black leggings. Some white converse to complete the smart look.

"Hazza!" She chirps back, turning around with a huge grin very identical to his own (jesus), and hugs him properly. "Oh, I've missed you!" She gushes, before casting Louis a look and a smile, nodding her head toward him politely, welcomingly. "And you must be Louis Tomlinson. I've heard none but good things from my baby brother."

She stands, still grinning, and they also hug. Harry doesn't miss the way Louis is blushing so hard being patted on his back by Gemma; by then, Harry wonders what must be going on in that pretty little head of his boyfriend, as he returns Gemma's warmth as is.

Harry can't help think he's probably charmed by his sister's voice or something--or, no, it's the hair perhaps... because honestly? Gemma's violet hair is making even Harry himself _stare_. Almost. Who did this to her? She looks wonderful.

"Hello, Gemma, sister of Harry," Louis mutters belatedly, finally, once he and Gemma have parted. "I've heard awesome things as well. Our little ol' Harry here is quite the storyteller." He grins, pulling Harry by the waist. Harry feels himself blush, especially having caught the way Gemma has averted her gaze from Louis to him, and then back to grin at Louis.

"Oh, you know it," Gemma fake-sighs, rolling her eyes playfully, "he wouldn't shut up about you. I had to grab Dusty and leave the room every time."

Harry sees at the corner of his eye, the way Louis bites at his lip by keeping a wide dopey grin, gripping gently at the small of his back, and that's enough indication that he's finally caving and relaxing into all of this. It makes Harry smile in satisfaction to himself.

Eventually, they order teas and biscuits when a boy not too far from Harry's age approaches them with a clipboard, he and Louis settling to sit across from Gemma, listening to a girl preach with her poetry right on the stage. Harry doesn't really pay much attention to that, but he thinks the girl's talking about anti-animal abuse and salvation of crops and plantations. Which, that's pretty swell. More than swell, actually.

But then his attention gets turned away from it completely, when some girl--or, some woman--with a shaved blue green hair, comes emerging from some backdoor behind the bar, wearing some black leather jacket, some white loose tank top underneath that, almost showing her...breasts, and then some very mini high-waisted shorts, carrying two flower crowns in her hands and heading exactly toward their table.

Harry blinks, and Gemma's suddenly out of her seat, meeting with this newcomer halfway, opening her arms wide and letting the woman hug her tightly, hefting her up to her feet, almost. "Hello, Styles," Harry vaguely catches the woman murmur fondly in his sister's ear, kissing her temple, and then letting go and proceeding toward their table again.

At this range, Harry can finally make out of the woman's face. For one, she's gorgeous, eyelashes thick and long, face smothered with light freckles and lips coated with dark maroon lipstick, blue green pixie cut making her look really, really cool, undercut hairstyle and all that. Secondly, she's holding two flower crowns and is smiling at him and Louis, her gaze averting back and forth between them.

And then this is the moment that it finally, finally _clicks_ in Harry's head.

His mouth forms a small _o_ , "He-hey," he stammers out as he waves, which, fuck. He's so gonna embarrass Gemma if he continues to be so freaking awkward like this. "You're Gemma's girlfriend, I reckon?"

The woman, seemingly expert at smoothing things out and or handling these kind of situations, only grins and wiggles her perfectly trimmed brows at him, easily brushing aside the fact that he just acted so lamely. "Hi! And, yeah!" She chirps, offering a hand. "Ashley Frangipane, your sister's girl, _but_ , you can call me Halsey. You're the famous Harry Styles, yeah? And him--," she thumbs at Louis, "--he's Mr. Louis Tomlinson." She pauses as she lets out a mocking sigh. "I know, don't ask. Gemma and I talk a _lot_."

"Oh, well, it's--," Harry fumbles to stand up, reaching out and taking Halsey's hand, this _American_ girl after all, "--it's nice to meet you, Halsey!" They shake hands, then Louis follows suit.

"Hello, Miss Ashley Frangipane," greets Louis, sounding rather mirthful as he counters back by stating her full name.

At that, Halsey grins, and then breaks out in laughter as she and Louis let go. "Touché."

♡♡♡♡

Harry fixes his fringe with the pink and purple flower crown sat atop his head, feeling a tad bold himself with such headpiece partnering his outfit for today, and leans down to meet the lip of his mug to take a sip of his tea. He sees Louis fidgeting with the flower crown next to him too, a blue and green one, sat horizontally over his feathery brown hair. He looks so...punk like this, rather than just the norm: adorable. Harry bites on the inside of his cheek, mentally thanking Halsey for making them wear them.

"So... how long is Gemma staying at your place, Harry?" Halsey asks, the woman leaning back ever so casually and relaxed in her seat, one arm perched over Gemma's headrest. Her legs are crossed underneath the table, and she's bumping knees with Gemma. Harry finds them really cute together.

Humming, Harry mutters, "Three days, I think?" And then he looks at Gemma right across him; he asks, "Gems, are you sure you only wanted three days? I mean, Halsey here is residing in Winchester and, mind, but, London is quite far. Don't you wanna hang for a couple more days?"

Gemma shrugs, and then she's raising both eyebrows, blowing a sigh. "I don't know, Haz... My boss only gave me three consecutive days, and considering I just started with this new campaign, I don't wanna risk it." She nudges Halsey's elbow with hers. "Besides, Hals and I get to see each other a lot when she lets her brother manage the pub, and..."

Eyes widening like she's just remembering something important, which, it could be, Halsey informs, "Right. We're kind of thinking of moving in together this summer, so...yeah. It won't take long now, Gemma just gotta--," Harry sees Gemma hold Halsey's hand over the table, and that makes Halsey glance her way only if for two short seconds, before she's proceeding with what she's saying, "--she just has to finish some stuff with the branch she's in at the mo', and then... guess we'll go from there." She finishes with a sly shrug of her shoulder where she isn't in body contact with Gemma, and Harry only nods his understanding, feeling mildly...envious, really.

"Suppose you guys are truly planning your future together, eh?" Louis quips for the first time since, and that has Harry's heart skipping a beat. For some reason.

Because like, it's not that Harry is guilty about something, right, something that goes along moving out of his flat to move in with Louis, but. He must admit that the tilt to Louis' voice has a lot to do with that--with them not taking their relationship to the next level yet (which is by moving in together and maybe after that getting engaged), despite they've been together even _before_ Halsey and Gemma went there--without much struggles, mind, because Harry's sure not Gemma nor Halsey has had to seduce the other and convince them it'd be alright to be together, since their ages align just right, and that his and Louis' age gap is quite the hugest cockblocker. But then, _yet_. Yet these two ladies are already at the verge of being _ahead of them_. And that would be entirely Harry's fault for being such a clingy arse to his property, if he's being honest here.

Like, even though Louis isn't pressuring him downright or outright regarding it. Louis still hasn't brought the issue out ever again--only that one time when they were hanging on the couch and eating some sweetened popcorn, tuned in to Skins UK season 2, episode 5. (Harry always keeps counts, okay).

 _Anyway_. Harry's feeling a bit queasy now. Now that this topic is brought out again. Surely, he's got to face this matter with Louis soon enough. Eventually.

Only just... not right now. Harry's still a puss-puss.

"Yeah," Halsey breathes out a tad bit later on, pulling Harry out of his little trance. "Been dreaming of living together with my girl for quite some time now, you know? Wanna see her 'just woke up' look in the mornings, see her strut lazily in our own living room when she's being moody, or like, feel her bed hair if I ever come up from behind her while she makes her tea in our own kitchen...something of the sort." Harry can see his own sister's eyes sparkle brightly as he's face-to-face with her, listening in while Halsey go on with this raw admission, can see Gemma's cheeks coloring a beet red, and just--Harry realizes only now that, all of these, everything Halsey's saying, is what he also wants with Louis, fuck. He so badly wants all of that too. "...and most of all, I just really want to go home to my gorgeous flower after a long exhausting day at work. Be snuggled under the blankets with her, while we drink our hot cocoa and stare up at the ceiling with nothing else to worry about."

Gemma lets out a breathless giggle, head dropping to lean against Halsey's shoulder. She's still mostly starry eyed and blushing, and Harry's feeling so, so envious but at the same time already quite fond of their just-newly-introduced-relationship-to-him relationship. "Yes. God... What a lovely thing would that be, Frangipane. You, me, and our little flat. We should adopt kittens too, just to complete the whole... love nest or something."

"Good idea, baby." Halsey pecks Gemma's top of the head, to which Gemma returns by facing her and letting their lips meet properly, and when they're pretty much becoming vehemently occupied to themselves now, it's only then that Harry's feeling Louis' incessant staring at him, bordering on _wanting_ to say something but won't.

Harry turns his head to his direction then, and there he sees the look Louis is giving him. It's not a hard one (of course not), but it's not soft or fond either. It's just...something that's making Harry squirm, making him sweat and bite on his lip. And it's as though they're back on square one again, back when he was just a student to Louis and Louis was just someone he could barely reach within the school grounds, his stare reduces Harry into this...caged bunny with nowhere else to escape to.

Except that Louis isn't looking creepy one bit though, especially not with his shaven clean face, soft hair, and flower crown. He's fucking turning Harry on, is what this is about.

Louis tips his chin up and narrows his gaze down to his lips, and then he's leaning in and they're suddenly kissing. Slowly, softly, until they're being passionate about it, until Harry's leaning against him and sagging, and Louis' hand is slipping under Harry's knitted jumper, warm palm touching his cold skin.

When they part, Harry doesn't even check to see if Gemma or Halsey is looking at them rather incredulously, instead he just looks at Louis dazedly and watches as the older man parts his lips open, ready to speak. "I think we need to talk, babe," are what Louis murmurs to him, cautiously and gently, like he doesn't want to overwhelm Harry...or pressure him, more like.

Swallowing the lump on his throat, Harry only nods his head at this, hands balled into fists planted over Louis' hard chest flinching a bit, gripping on Louis' collar. He knows what Louis means by that, knows what they 'need to talk about', and he thinks that, he's just--maybe just gonna accept his fate this time. Talk things out with Louis. Plan things with him... negotiate.

 _Talk_. Like any normal couple would.

Right. His future is with Louis after all, so.

♡♡♡♡

Thanking Halsey and saying goodbye, Louis after their little double date drives them all back to Harry's flat. Gemma still has to settle in, will be staying there for three days just as they've talked about earlier and really, before she even came here, and Harry's going to help her with her stuff, of course.

Louis drops the two of them off once they're in front of his flat commercial building, last minute deciding he maybe needs to get back to his own flat to feed his cats above all else, which, that's no biggie. _But of course_ , the king and queen shall be treated well and consistently, so Harry and Gemma let him go. They can do this by themselves.

So Harry, had lost track of time during those weeks he and Gemma were yet planning this, didn't get to prepare the guest room for Gemma ahead of time, so naturally, the freaking room still reeks of sex. Heavily so. Which, jesus, if this isn't the most embarrassing thing to ever present to someone. Much worse, his _sister_.

He clears his throat just as he and Gemma stand there, staring at the room at large, sporting scattered clothes in it, girls' items such as knickers, bras and unused tampons lying about, a hover board pushed under the bed (that's Kendall's), and then some leather jackets and socks (even Cara's freaking bow tie), and then moves to set Gemma's bag on the carpeted floor. "So, uhm. I'm very sorry about the, uh..." He gestures to the _mess_ , feeling awkward and ashamed, "the mess. This is the room I was talking to you about where Cara and Kendall... you know."

She laughs, eyes widening in realization perhaps, face going red tenfold. "It's cool, H," she says, waving him off. Harry can barely hold his grin, biting hard on his lower lip, recalling that time they first had that conversation about Louis, and Cara and Kendall just happened to be fucking on the other room. Oh, how the days pass by so quickly...

In a blink of an eye, he and Louis could be celebrating their first anniversary.

"Forgive them?" Harry chirps in question, eying his sister.

"As if I have any other option." Gemma rolls her eyes.

And, their little talk ends at that, as they immediately spring into action and begin cleaning up. Harry helps Gemma pick any and all pieces of fabric he can get a hold on to, while he carries an air freshening spray with him, pressing on the button occasionally. They chuck them lacy items aside to the hamper he's taken from inside the guest bathroom, and then they change the bed sheets and pillowcases, dusting the curtains by the windows, vacuuming the carpet before dragging Gemma's bag and flopping it over the now clean bed.

Harry hears the door open moments later, and he knows already it's Louis trudging inside the flat, so he leaves Gemma behind to sort her own stuff first, and decides to greet Louis with a kiss by the front door, because he misses him already. _He's a clingy sap, shut up._

What he sees Louis is carrying with him surprises him just a little, and just like that he can feel his spirit coming alive. "Lee! Saturn! _My babies!_ " He beams, running towards Louis and giving him a quick peck to his lips, before he's scooping the black cat in his arms and spinning around with her.

That's when Gemma emerges from the guest room, probably to come and check what he's shrieking about. When she sees they're a bunch of fluffy and cute thingies wreaking havoc, Gemma practically squeals and skips over to them, too. "Oh, my," she gushes, crouching down to where Saturn is crawling about. "Are they yours, Louis?" She asks, gazing up at Louis in awe, eyes twinkling.

"Yes," Louis says around a sheepish smile, shrugging. Harry can almost feel him flushing. "That's Saturn, the one lookin' like Garfield in front of you, and this one Harry's carrying is Lee."

" _Oohh_ ," Gemma coos, "they're adorable. Adorable names, adorable kitties." Harry watches his sister pick up Saturn and cradle the male cat in her arms, caressing its fur and hugging it to her chest like he's been her baby for life.

Although, Harry will admit he shares the exact feeling towards them.

He loves Louis' pets' company more than he should, loves that they mostly don't give a shit about their surroundings, which is just brilliant (because they get to have sex in front of them and they wouldn't even bat an eye), and the part where they don't give Louis a hard time. They take their dump outside of the flat, throw up someplace else too, and they never break any of Louis' stuff--not even the rugs or the couch, no. They eat just the right amount, don't demand much of Louis' attention, and don't keep Louis up at night, not mewling to annoy. Harry just really loves Lee and Saturn like they're his children, see, and he sometimes hopes Louis also thinks the same. Sure, it will sound ridiculous said out loud, but Harry having babies with Louis will be the best thing ever, even if they're just _cats_.

Said cats are worth it, besides, and just by seeing that Gemma is quite already loving their company too, if her squeals and fond eyes are any and all indication, makes something inside Harry settle rather peacefully. And, even after Harry's proclaimed he'll be making them some dinner, she still keeps on cuddling with Saturn by the floor and it's just so, so precious, the pair of them.

Just watching her like this... Harry can't help marvel on the reality that he really does miss his sister. Misses living so painfully normal and innocent with them--her and their Nan. Missing the life of never being a camboy at all, but just a boy from Holmes Chapel...

It makes him wonder then, what if Louis knew of him in a different way? Knew him when he isn't and never has been one; a camboy. Will their relationship stay as it is now? Or will it become something else entirely? Will Louis even take him in if all he knew was that he was completely pure, a virgin, innocent, and not the other way around? Gave him a chance, a fuck, let him suck his dick if he didn't know that Harry actually has some experiences in those?

Harry doesn't know for sure what the answers are to all these haunting questions nagging at him right about now, but he'd love to think anyway that Louis still would. Take him in, that is, be his boyfriend... take his virginity away from him and ravish his innocence. But perhaps with much more angst and pining ensued before getting to where they are now, all things considered, because at least in this verse Louis already has been a fan of him since--which means he fancied Harry before they even bumped into each other for the first time.

Harry smiles to himself just as he's started piling food on his, Louis' and Gemma's plates around the dining table, looking up at Louis who is standing right across from him, completely clueless to his musings, also helping out with filling up their glasses with juice.

_Harry's anchor tattoo will now serve as a constant reminder that he's already won Louis over, and that his battles are existing, no more._

Much later at night, while the sky pours down what its been holding in starting this late afternoon, Harry and Louis mope about the living area while they let Gemma finally sleep in the guest room, with the knowledge of her coming all the way from London straight out of work to Winchester. Harry knows she's exhausted, so it's only fair to let her be without much guilt tripping or coaxing to stay up all night with them.

Out of activities to do, Harry fishes out his phone and decides to just take tons of selfies with Louis. It needed a fair bit of convincing with Louis, a few kisses here and there, but in the end he caved in to Harry's pouting at him. "You look like a fucking polar bear pouting like that, H," he says, disgruntling, and that's how Harry won.

They've captured one where he's leaning in to kiss Louis' cheek to his right, and another one where he does, making Louis grin towards the camera lens. Then Harry has one where he's nestled in between Louis' thighs and grinning up to the camera, Louis taking it for them, also grinning silly. Then they make Lee and Saturn join for a couple more shots, causing the cats to leap out of them just when they're done being _the_ pests to their busy selves. Harry snorts at that, watching Lee scratching on her neck as if she's annoyed with his and Louis' ruckuses, which, yeah, perhaps. There is also a point where Louis sticks his tongue out and crosses his eyes, taking a selfie with Harry who's got his peace sign flashing up. And lastly where they're full on kissing on their mouths, Louis' arm around his neck, and Harry taking the selfie for them at an angle where one could say they're so tangled and in love. It's freaking cheesy as fuck, but Harry loves it so much.

After their selfie takings, Harry pulls out his Scrabble board and that's how they end the night, playing it.

Harry wins, only because he knows Louis had let him. He used words such as Twimposter, Nomophobia, Splogs, and Blaudience, which they both know could be counted as cheating, but Louis is kind enough to neglect it, only tackles him on the floor and tickles him until he can't breathe anymore.

♡♡♡♡

"Zayn Malik is really fucking gorgeous though, ain't he?" Cara muses, blatantly being gossipy, as she proceeds brushing Kendall's hair like they're having some fucking posh slumber party. She's even in her PJs, jeez.

Everyone's in Harry's flat today, and by everyone it means Cara, Kendall, Melly, Eleanor, Gemma, Louis, and him, just hanging by the living room with Skins UK Season 3's episode 2 rolling. Halsey can't come over, they've texted her and asked, because apparently her brother's out and about with his friends, so she's staying in the poetry bar to keep an eye on it. Gemma seems fine with it, knows she'll get to see her later, so there's that.

Today is a Sunday, and pretty much they're having a lazy Sunday in. Tomorrow is the big day after all, AKA their graduation, so Louis and Harry are tolerating this. Whatever this is.

Anyway, everyone agrees to Cara's judgement, about Zayn being "really fucking gorgeous", nodding their heads with their eyes all sparkling and twinkling, with shameless amount of thirst and the like. Even Louis, Harry can see. He only shrugs though, because it's obvious that what Cara is saying is true. Niall is one lucky sod. Actually, both he and Zayn to each other.

"But I see you ogling the butler though," Kendall suddenly pipes up and changes the subject completely, eyebrow raising, shooting Cara a look over her shoulder.

Cara freezes, but doesn't falter. "I did?" She doesn't look too guilty or whatever, just...genuinely surprised, maybe?

"Yep."

She hums, putting a finger under her chin. Then she points at Kendall questioningly. "But were you jealous then?"

At this, Kendall perks up, and she twists her body to face Cara behind her properly. " _What?_ " she chokes, face red, "no," Kendall says firmly, shaking her head, scoffing and crossing her arms against her chest. Harry can't help biting his lip and sharing a knowing look with Louis, even though Louis probably doesn't know a thing about this or how it even occured--just that he knows Annie the butler really is, well, dare Harry say, _gorgeous_ , and that she's just exactly Cara's type.

Annie and Kendall both have tall heights and slim bodies, both sporting dark hairs and reddish tanned skin, so. Pretty similar. Cara's type.

Harry watches Cara smirk. "Really now. But we both know she's hot, yeah, babe? I mean, I'd do her." Cara shrugs as she states that, like it's no big deal. And Harry's heart drops a little, especially when he sees the way Kendall's shoulders sag.

"Course you would," Kendall murmurs, looking away.

Cara's eyes widen, and then she's laughing heartily as she looks at everybody at a close reach, until her attention zeroes in on Kendall who's about standing up and leaving her side. "Aww, my baby's seething mad! Come 'ere you!" She snakes her arms around Kendall's waist and pulls her back in her lap. Cara starts showering her with kisses then, and at the corner, Harry sees Eleanor texting nonstop, keeps on checking her phone every three seconds. Huh.

"S-stop it!" Kendall is laughing now, loudly, being tickled by Cara. Harry smiles silly to himself, leaning against Louis and seeking for his hand. Once found, he interlaces their fingers together, lifting them up and pressing a kiss at the back of Louis' hand. Louis in retaliation squeezes his hand in his, and then kissing his nape and breathing him in.

As Kendall's laughter dies down slowly, Cara back on brushing her hair, she says casually, without a hint of malice in her voice, "But real talk though, she's fuckable." Melly and Eleanor hum their agreement, since they've been there and saw the butler. Just when Kendall's about to combust, Cara follows up quickly with a, " _But_ , I wouldn't. I'm already with the most fuckable girl, so why would I, right?" She noses along Kendall's neck and tries to bite her. Only that Kendall squirms away and giggles, slapping at Cara's arm.

Harry feels oddly relieved and at ease with this, because finally another elephant in the room has been squished. His best friends aren't having some sort of...trouble in paradise or whatever, and he's merry about it. He just--he cares _a lot_ about them is all.

"So, Gems," Melly says, smiling at Gemma, who's holding Saturn and playing with his paws that are attempting to tap her hand.

"Hmm?" Gemma looks up, smiling too.

"Who is this Ashley?"

"Oh," Gemma's lips form a small _o_ , "my girlfriend. It's a tragic she couldn't come, busy with her business. But I'll see if she can still join us later."

Melly beams. "Ooh. It'd be so lovely if we can all meet her before you go home after the graduation."

"It would, it would!" Gemma agrees, and then she's whipping out her phone again with a silent "ugh", "Here, let me ask if there's any possibility she could catch up."

Harry sighs after a moment of silence around their circle. "Tomorrow we will graduate, how cool is that?" He mumbles, but everyone hears him anyway.

"I know. Can't believe it," Eleanor says, talking for the second time ever since she got here. The first time had been her saying Hello to Gemma and hugging her fiercely. They're pretty tight too, the two of them.

"Well," Melly sighs dreamily, "How about let's drink to that, yeah?"

Harry looks at her, and he thinks _yes, yes, yes._ It'll be his first time drinking if they did, and it'd be alright, since he's eighteen now and is legal. _Hell yeah, he's legal now!_

"Right," Kendall says, "but who's up for dropping by Tesco and buying us some alcohols?"

"I'll go," Gemma and Harry say in unison, making everyone look at them.

Louis shrugs, declaring easily, "I'll come with."

♡♡♡♡

So they drink then, and it's Harry's first time, right, thus after just downing three shots of Jack Daniel's, he's wheezing in laughter at whatever joke Cara throws at them, lame or not, new or old. Louis' got his hand on his thigh the entire time.

They begin a game of truth or dare a little bit later when they've ran out of things to do (things such as downing shots after shots, telling stories about their Year Ten experiences, the lot), Melissa's idea, and while everyone had been a bit put off by the cliché-ness of it, they still all joined in the end anyway. No one can ever deny that puppy look only one Melissa can pull.

There are a few things they discover throughout this "deadly game" as Eleanor has put it, because yeah, for one, they bust Eleanor herself about Luke. Hah. They've been texting then, no wonder Eleanor's glowing these past few days. Secondly, Cara about her self-planning of moving in with Kendall. Just like last time, Harry shares a side glance with Louis, and that makes him feel a lot hotter than he already is, squirming under the heated gaze Louis is directing at him. His hold on Harry's thigh tightens just so.

Thirdly, they hear about Melly's sexuality. "I'd do Gemma," she admits ever so easily, casually, as she downs her seventh shot, conceivably. "But I'd also do Niall Malik," she adds with a lazy smirk. Hmm. So bisexual then? Queer? Pan? Harry shrugs mentally.

Fourthly, Louis' desire for an arse tattoo. Harry almost came in his pants, which. Well.

There has been a whole lot of exchanging of kisses as well, when they dodged a couple of truths. Gemma gets to lock lips with half the girls. Melissa and Gemma French kissed, which makes Harry laugh and bury his face at the crook of Louis' neck. _He's so not here to see that_. But then he and Eleanor get to kiss too, when Eleanor refuses to answer whether she and Luke are together now. It's just a short peck though, and once more, Louis' hold on his waist this time, becomes more possessive and bordering on territorial. Harry's dick twitches at that, yearning for Louis' hand to wrap around it soon after this whole...drinking thingy.

Louis gets to kiss Melissa and Cara on their cheeks, only because he opposes to kissing his students, especially not in front of Gemma, Harry's sister, no. That makes Cara pout, but she's quick to let it go when Kendall elbows her on the ribs. Harry giggles at their ridiculousness, feeling all dizzy and tipsy now. High after he downs his ninth shot.

"You're finish here, baby," Louis whispers in his ear.

"Am I?" Harry quips, voice slurry even in his own ears.

"You are."

He sighs dreamily, happily. Drunkenly. "Okay, sir." Then he giggles when he catches Gemma looking at him incredulously. "What? Haven't you and Hals got kinks to yourselves?" He waves her off. "Stop judging us."

Gemma rolls her eyes, fondly for that matter, and then she's standing up to her feet to head for the door. "Speaking of," she huffs, passing by the others as she goes, and then opens the door when she makes it there.

The doorway reveals a Halsey in some black tank top, white jacket over it, mini short shorts that's exposing her tanned thighs and legs, and then some mint colored Nike Air Max shoes. She's also sporting a pale pink cap atop her head, one with Nike's " _√_ " embroidered in front of it. A walking Hipster Aesthetic is what she is, Harry thinks idly to himself, deeming maybe he's finally met his new fashion icon. Right there. He never would've thought it'd be his sister's girlfriend.

"Hey, Hals!" Harry greets in a slur, waving obnoxiously from where Louis is petting his head. They're Indian sitting on the floor nearby the couch, the coffee table where all the alcohols and chips are scattered about right in front of them. Cara and Kendall are next to them, Eleanor sat on the couch behind them, and Melissa on the other side of her.

"Harry, bro!" Halsey greets back, grinning. Gemma leads her inside, and everyone's eyes are glued to the new guest that she is all the sudden. "Hello everyone." Halsey's grin is prominent, not leaving her lips.

It's Melissa who jumps up first and shakes hands with her. "Hi, you must be Gemma's Ashley?"

Halsey nods. "Yup! The one and only. You guys may call me Halsey, I go by that now." She smiles sheepishly.

"Ooh, nice name. Sure!" Melissa beams. From there, Gemma introduces Halsey to the rest of the gang. Cara and Halsey high-five, to which Harry finds so typical of them--maybe they're some type of lost twins. Despite the short time Harry's spent within the vicinity of Halsey yesterday, he can already quite tell she and Cara shared a lot of things in common. Like their raging enthusiasm for one. Although Halsey is more laid back like Zayn, and Cara is the talkative enthusiastic type one, like Louis.

By the time Gemma is watching her girlfriend shaking hands with Eleanor, who looks rather bashful in the least, seemingly liking the good vibes radiating from Halsey's wholesomeness, Louis is pushing Harry up to his feet and is ushering him toward his bedroom door. "Too much to drink. Bedtime for you," Louis singsongs, pushing the door open and leading him inside. Louis leaves him to get under the duvet, and he hears Louis telling the others, "We're off to bed, guys. Lock up after us?"

"Sure, Lou! I've got this," Gemma responds cheerfully--too cheerfully, probably because of Halsey being there and joining them, causing her to feel so giddy--and that has Harry sighing in relief and contentment right away. No one protested, that's why. Which is great, because Harry's so royally fucked now and horny and like, everything is spinning, and his cheeks are...swelling or something. Just, it feels like it. Numbing, growing twofold. And, he realizes now, this is how it feels like being tipsy. He wonders, how it'll be once he's fully smashed. Will he be singing I Will Survive at the top of his lungs?

Whatever. Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts. Fuck thoughts. Louis is what he wants. His dick, specifically.

Louis finally comes back inside the room (yay), and he closes the door behind him with his foot. Harry hears the click of the lock, and that in itself already has his dick straining his pajama bottoms quite quickly. Maybe Louis will fuck him tonight.

"Louis," Harry coos, making grabby hands for Louis' neck when he leans down, hands dropping on either side of Harry's head over the pillow. Louis chuckles, throat vibrating with it, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in time with Harry's dick twitch. "Are you gonna have sex with me, Louis?" He asks innocently, fluttering his eyelashes up at Louis.

Louis stares down at him, smile still visible on his lips. "But you're drunk, love. It won't be quite as good as our other fucks," he states calmly.

And...ugh. Louis is being blunt. Harry finds it so fucking hot.

"But, _you_ are not drunk though, Lou," still, Harry forges on, pressing and pointing out a fact. "So you will still feel it. I mean, I don't mind not feeling anything..."

Louis shakes his head, smirking. "You're silly."

"Silly for you," Harry coos, pouting his lips. "Kiss me, please? Miss your mouth against mine."

Louis does, closing the gap between their touching lips where Louis is hovering over Harry. Little by little, Harry crawls his hands up Louis' back as he pushes his shirt and up over his head; their kiss stops there, and then Harry's throwing the fabric away and urging Louis to climb on top of him. They go back to kissing, Louis' tongue sliding against his, poking at the roof of his mouth and tasting, teeth clashing almost as their snogging deepens.

Harry sucks on Louis' tongue, tasting the alcohol on it and then the chips he ate earlier. Letting go with a wet pop, Louis leans down to bite on his lower lip, just to suck and nip on it to ease the subtle pain. "Harry," Louis whispers when he redeems himself.

"Mhmm?" Harry hums questioningly, looking dazedly up at him.

Louis lets out a shaky breath. "Ever thought of..." He trails off, and at this Harry blinks rapidly to focus his visions. When he can finally see clearly, Harry takes in the look that is right across Louis' face. He's looking quite...contemplative, and nervous? Why?

"Hey..." Harry murmurs, reaching up and cupping Louis' face. "What is it, hon?"

He sees Louis swallow. Their eyes meet for a second, and then there's silence.

A beat, "I... Ever thought of... fucking me?"

And, oh.

"Oh," Harry breathes out, feeling his throat dry. Louis' looking down on him anxiously, biting his lip and then licking it wet. He's waiting for Harry's reply. "Lou, I... I..."

Louis sighs, not sounding defeated but rather just calm, flopping down next to him. "It's okay, Harry. I shouldn't have-- _fuck_ , that was unfair of me to ask just out of nowhere. Shit, I'm sorry, baby." He faces him and kisses his cheek, making Harry snap his gaping mouth shut.

"Uhm... uh... Lou?" Harry murmurs, looking up at the ceiling and blinking softly, before flicking his gaze towards Louis next to him.

"Hm?"

"Let's do it." He gulps after he's said it.

"Do, what?" Louis blinks at him.

"Oh, you know..." He sniffs, pinching at his bottom lip with his thumb and index finger. "Me. Fuck... You."

Eyes widening, Louis stares at him without saying anything. Moments pass. And then it's Harry who scrambles up to his knees eventually, straddling Louis' hips and surging down to kiss the shocked look on his face.

And it goes from there. Harry comes back to being sober just when he's putting a condom down his length, for the very first time too, mind, palms clammy and sweaty, feeling so nervous and amateurish all throughout while coating himself with lube.

He fucks Louis slowly then, calculating and careful with his every move, letting Louis guide him through it, tell him what to do or how he should angle his every pound.

The feeling is...quite good, Harry must admit. Louis' walls are warm around his cock, tight too. And, god, Louis has the most amazing arse Harry's ever seen in his life, so with that alone Harry already feels like he's winning, having the chance to fuck Louis.

Louis is a little responsive, writhing and panting beneath him, but mostly he's holding Harry upright to help him with his thrusts, because that's just how it is with them when it comes to having sex. Louis takes control in everything, while Harry obeys every word he says... Something Harry's truly, very happy about.

Harry is naturally a power bottom, so like... topping be damned, really. But if Louis misses the feeling of being fucked, being the receiving end every once in a while, then Harry is the whipped sod he is for him who will be willing to give, despite Harry hasn't a clue yet as to how this thing goes. He's got Louis, see. He's got his sweetheart.

Now, unlike Louis who takes a while to come when it's him who's balls deep in Harry, Harry on the other hand only after a handful of thrusts squirts in the condom eventually...which is embarrassing for how fast he lasted per se, but Louis is kind enough to just laugh fondly and jerk himself off until he comes as well, making a mess of his tummy. Harry heaves a sigh as he flops down on top of Louis, not caring if their comes are all over their sweating bodies and that that is freakishly disgusting. Unhygienic.

They do not care for now.

As Louis spoons him from behind, after they've cleaned up and heard that the rest of their friends by the living room have started to call it a night as well that is, Harry lets out a breath before falling asleep, thinking only about what is bound to happen hours from now.

He's finally fucking graduating. His mum and dad would've been so proud of him.

**Author's Note:**

> honest thoughts about this? x


End file.
